Entangled
by fluffy2001
Summary: Chapter 11. Final chapter! Jess haunts the person living in the apartment at Stanford, asking for Sam. He and Sam embark on a dangerous mission to save Jess, Dean, and themselves. Spoilers up the season three finale.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Here it is, another crazy idea of mine. I still don't have any time to write fics, but this idea wouldn't die. I've been bouncing this one around since "Jus In Bello", and picked it up again after the Season finale, inspired with a plot. As usual, it's going to have a few twists. It'll be several chapters, and includes spoilers all the way up to the finale. **

**You'll have to let me know if this first chapter sparks your interest. I'm biased, since I already know how the rest of it is going (very excited about it). Happy reading!**

**--**

Matthew wearily grasped onto the stair railing, his palm gliding up the smooth surface of the stained wood as he made his way up. It felt cool, likely because of the crisp February air. He had one of the more brutal days that a Stanford graduate student could endure, berating himself for choosing such a field as Sociology. He should have gone into Forestry instead. His theories deviant behavior of children who lost a parent early in life were blasted as hearsay after his thesis presentation. Granted, he didn't have life experience to draw from, but who did in his field?

He reached the top of the stairs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys, all while protesting with a tired grunt. All he wanted was to see his bed. He unlocked the deadbolt and pushed the door open, being greeted by that slow creak. That was something he and the super tried to fix on numerous occasions but never had any luck. After a while, they determined the place wanted it that way and left it alone. Matthew found it an oddity considering the apartment not too long ago had been rebuilt from a fire.

Slamming the creaky door behind him, he threw the keys on the table, removed his jacket and threw it over the back of the kitchen chair. He slunk into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, rolling on his back and closing his eyes. Everything felt so soft, so wonderful, but after a minute he noticed the chill in the air. He sighed, hoping that didn't mean the heater was broken. He was too tired to check it out though, and figured an extra blanket instead would work. He was sound asleep before he could fetch it.

"_Sam_." The voice was barely audible, and Matthew didn't give it a second thought. It was likely coming from the place next door.

"_Why Sam?_" The words were no louder than a faint whisper, but it was enough for Matthew to stir. His eyes cracked open, focusing on the ceiling above him.

"What the-" He suddenly popped up, stunned by the image above. He closed his eyes and opened them again, only to find he wasn't seeing things. There was a blond woman in a white nightgown, her eyes were vacant, her long, wavy hair was splayed on the ceiling, and blood pooled from her stomach.

"_Sam_," she said, louder, now more than a whisper. Matthew stood up on the bed, reaching his arms up, trying to help her. A giant wave hit him and he fell backward, throwing his arms in front of his face as the ceiling and the woman burst into flames. He waited for the heat to consume him, covering his face in safety, but suddenly he felt a cold breeze. He lowered his arms and pushed open his left eye, seeing that the ceiling was normal and the woman was gone.

--

"Sam!" Dean shouted, shaking his brother, who was in the adjacent bed. He was screaming and flailing, entrenching himself in a set of blankets and sheets.

"Wake up Sam! You're having a nightmare." Sam's eyes shot open and he took in a sharp gasp, staring with disturbed eyes into Dean's worried face. He was sweating and panting heavily, unable to move while Dean held onto his shirt, making sure his brother in his incoherent frame of mind wouldn't do anything irrational.

Sam's breathing slowed and he choked a bit while reality set back in. He tried to speak, but only small grunts left his mouth. He closed his eyes tight and opened them again, becoming aware that he was in a motel with Dean.

Dean let Sam go and ran his hand through his spiky hair to calm himself down from his abrupt wake up. "Jesus Sam, you haven't done this in a while. I thought we were done."

"Me too," Sam weakly said, his bearings now almost intact.

"What were you dreaming about, and don't give me a smart ass answer this time."

"Dean-"

"Come on Sam. Just tell me."

Sam sighed in defeat, sitting up and shaking off his confusion and distress. What ever he saw was vivid, just like the other dreams. The psychic dreams. He didn't want to believe this was one of them though. "Jessica. She was on the ceiling, burning, but-" Sam froze, for he wasn't exactly sure what it meant.

"But what Sam?"

"There was another man watching her burn."

Dean examined Sam carefully, hoping that Sam's expression would give him better clues. All he saw his long, shaggy hair hiding his face, obstructing any clues. "Jess huh? It was probably a bad dream."

"Yeah, probably." Sam got up and shuffled over to the bathroom sink, dousing his worried face in a cool splash of water. "But-"

"But what?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Why was that man there?"

Dean shrugged, not sure if he wanted to dismiss this or help his brother through it. "Did the place look familiar?"

"Yes, and no. It looked like my old place at Stanford, but it was different."

"Like rebuilt different?"

Sam's heart sank and his face turned white. Dean was right, it was his old apartment. He couldn't accept this was a vision though. They were supposed to be gone. "Yeah, maybe."

"Oh, great," Dean said, knowing that look. "You had a psychic dream."

"No," Sam denied.

Dean's glare of disbelief pierced through Sam, letting him know he wasn't buying his act.

"We can't go to Stanford, Dean. We're in the middle of something intense here. Besides, the guy wasn't dying. Just a little freaked out."

Dean thought about it, but still wasn't accepting. "We've got time to check it out."

That got a sharp reaction out of Sam. "Check it out? What if I run into someone I knew? If I recall correctly, we're now officially dead. Besides, I'd rather focus my time on our other situation."

Sam sighed and climbed back into bed, rolling over and pulling the covers up to his neck.

"Don't ignore this Sam."

"Good night Dean," Sam replied, brushing him off.

"Sam-"

Sam ignored him and did everything to tune out his brother, but Dean was too bothered to go back to sleep. He heard the TV clicked on, the volume kept low.

Sam sighed and got up, sitting on the edge of the bed, joining his brother in some bad late night TV.

"What are they selling now?" Sam asked, noticing the bad infomercial.

"Some sort of weight-loss product. You have been looking a little chunky there lately." Dean cracked a smile, but Sam wasn't biting.

"Who stuffed his face with a one pound meatball sub before bed?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged, acknowledging his brother had him there, and turned his attention back to the TV.

--

Sheila heard the frantic knock on her door and raced to open it. A very bothered Matthew breezed by her, working his way into the apartment and dropping on the couch.

"You didn't make any sense on the phone Matthew."

"I…I don't get it. What I saw, it isn't possible."

Whatever he saw, she had never seen him this spooked. It did seem more than just a bad dream. "Why?"

"I've been raised my whole life to believe that ghosts aren't real. They can't be. I…I just wonder-"

"Wonder what?"

"Maybe it was a sign from God? You know, a burning bush type of thing."

"A burning woman? I don't think so."

Matthew agreed, realizing he wasn't making any sense. He was still too rattled. He leaned forward, letting his head fall in between his legs while his hands were clutched tightly behind his head.

"Are you okay?" Sheila sat down next to him and rubbed his back gently.

"I don't know."

"Once you've taken a minute to calm down, I'll share what I found out."

Matthew lifted his head up and looked at her surprised. "So soon?"

"It's Google Matthew. Pretty quick and easy. You know the fire that happened at that apartment over two years ago? Jessica Moore, a 22 year old student, died in that fire. Her boyfriend was in the apartment too, but he got out." She got up and brought over her laptop, showing him the picture.

"That's her!" Matthew now felt sick to his stomach. He was seeing ghosts. How could this be? "Did you get the boyfriend's name?"

"Sam Winchester."

Matthew's face turned white. He couldn't believe this was happening. "She mentioned the name Sam a few times."

"What did she say?"

"Just _Sam. _Wait, the last time she said '_Why Sam'_?"

"You think he had something to do with her death?"

"I don't know what to think about any of this. You Google the name Sam Winchester?"

Sheila nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't have much luck. A Sam Winchester came up on the FBI's most wanted list, and he apparently died in custody in Colorado a week ago. Chances are that ain't our guy."

Matthew felt his excitement deflate a little. "No, probably not." He shouldn't expect all his answers tonight.

"We can start checking around here tomorrow. I'm sure he was a student too. Maybe we can find him or a friend and get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, you should get some sleep."

"Sleep? I can't sleep. I certainly can't go back to my place right now.

Sheila looked at him carefully and sighed, realizing he was still a mess. She grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, frowning after flipping through a few channels. "Nothing but bad infomercials."

All sorts of alarms went off inside Matthew when she flipped to the next channel. "Wait, wait, stay on this one."

A stunned Sheila froze, the remote still pointed to the TV. "You looking for some weight loss stuff? You seem pretty thin to me."

"I…I don't know. Something tells me it should be on."

Sheila shook her head. "Whatever. I'll go get us something to drink."

Matthew watched the TV, accepting that under normal circumstances, under normal feelings, there was no way he'd pay attention to this crap. This meant something, somehow, but he wasn't in the frame of mind to explore it tonight.

He was too rattled to pay attention anyway.

--

"_Where are you Sam?_" The voice faintly said.

"Jessica, can I call you Jessica?"

The ghostly figure didn't answer, only keeping her vacant stare while on the ceiling.

"Jessica, Sam should be with you." A quick breeze blew through the apartment, scattering papers and chilling him to the bone. He shivered and cowered in fear.

"_Why aren't you here?"_

"How do I help Sam find you Jessica?" The breeze grew into a gust, pinning him against the wall.

"_Let him go." _

"Let who go Jessica? I want to help you."

She screamed and burst into a fury of flames, and he shielded himself from the onslaught.

Sam shouted, startled out of his dream. He adjusted himself in the passenger seat of the Impala and worked through the stupor that often came after a deep sleep, feeling Dean's worries eyes burn through him. Dean sighed in hopelessness and pulled the Impala over to the side of the road, throwing the gear into park and turning to face Sam.

"What? I fell asleep."

"You weren't sleeping Sam. You were staring out the window the whole time. You zoned out. It was a vision, wasn't it?"

Sam's head dropped down toward his lap, overcome by a nervous feeling that often came when Dean stared him down like that. "No. It was a daydream." His eyes drifted back up, peering out through the dirty film on the windshield. "Where are we?"

"Wisconsin. Morton House, remember?

"Yeah." Sam squirmed as those glaring eyes still fixed on him. "Look, I'm okay. Stop worrying."

"Was it about Jess?"

Sam paused, reluctantly accepting he couldn't avoid the question. "Yes."

"Was that other guy there?"

"Yes."

"Then it was a vision."

"I don't know what it was."

Dean huffed and dropped his head to the steering wheel, for he honestly didn't know how to deal with this. "Sam."

"Don't worry about this Dean." Sam was irritated now, and didn't need his big brother's overprotective nature to kick in. Not now. He briefly wondered if it was Dean's way of changing focus away from his situation. "I didn't get an intense headache or feel any pain. It can't be a vision. Just keep driving. I'll be okay."

Dean continued to stare, unconvinced.

"Morton House, Dean. We don't have a lot of time here. It'll be night soon."

After another good long glance he relented, shifting the gear back into drive and pulling back out into the road. He wasn't going to let this slide, but Sam did have a point, they'd have to let it go for now.

--

"Whoa, you're not going to believe this." Sheila was pretty excited by her find, even if it took a few days. She hadn't had any luck so far finding Sam Winchester, or where he went after he left school. She couldn't even find on old friend of his or Jessica's that might have some answers. But she struck gold here.

"What is it?" Matthew walked over to the desk. Sheila had offered to come by and do some more searching after she got off work. He felt okay about letting her come over, since he had a few days of no ghost visits.

"Sam Winchester's mother died in a house fire when he was six months old. The date, November 2nd, 1983."

"No kidding?" Matthew looked over her shoulder to see the info on laptop. His jaw dropped when he saw the dates. "The same day as Jessica, only twenty-two years earlier?"

"That's too weird to be a coincidence."

"Where did his mother die?"

She read further into the obituary. "Lawrence, Kansas."

Matthew sunk into a nearby chair, his face wash with disbelief. He couldn't fathom that it would be there. Whatever was happening now, it wasn't anything he could dismiss. "I was in Lawrence last month, remember? The University of Kansas sociology department. I was researching for my thesis."

Sheila's mouth hung open, for that was strange too. "Like I said before, too weird to be a coincidence."

"So, there's a reason for all this?" Matthew got up and started pacing around, his mind too flooded over why this was suddenly happening to him. "Why now? The fire was two years ago."

"Holy crap," Sheila said, her latest search providing another goldmine. "I think I might have your answer. The guy on the FBI most wanted list, that's the same Sam Winchester."

"No kidding?" Matthew rushed over to peak over her shoulder onto the screen. The mug shots she found gave them exactly what they needed, for he recognized the same shaggy hair, the mole on the cheek, and the dour "carrying the weight of the world" eyes that he saw in the old student ID picture they managed to get hold of the day before. "Whoa, it is him. Sam is dead?"

"It appears so."

"So Jessica shows up shortly after he dies? Does this mean she can't find him?" Matthew began pacing again, for now he was thinking about how to fix this. He scoffed at himself, for a few days ago he couldn't accept ghosts were real. "How do we get two ghosts to hook up with each other? Don't they have the power to do that? Isn't that something God does, reunite spirits with loved ones?"

Sheila took a long pause to think it all through, and then came up with something. "Maybe she's asking you."

Matthew rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in the air. "Oh, like I'm the clairvoyant one. Come on, all I'm doing is living in the apartment. Jessica's mere existence goes against everything I've ever believed in."

"Maybe next time she shows up, you can ask how you can help."

Her answer made Matthew even more upset. "Next time she shows up? If she shows up, if I'm not scared into a stupor when that happens."

Sheila closed the lid of the laptop, stood up and grabbed her coat. "It's been a long day Matthew. We'll pick this back up tomorrow."

Matthew nodded as she touched his shoulder and gave him a reassuring glance. She smiled at him and he forced a smile back, even though he was still bothered. He watched her leave the apartment and exhaled a worried breath, retreating into the bedroom. He fell onto the bed and closed his eyes, trying his best to stop his mind from running in circles.

"_Where are you Sam?" _A faint voice said.

--

**a/n: You like? Let me know if chapter two will be worth your while. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam?? Sammy?? Come on, please, snap out of it."

A disoriented Sam tried to focus on the worried eyes of his brother, which were level with his, but his face was hazy. Dean crouched down in front of him, his steady hands resting on the top of Sam's shoulders, there to shake him out of whatever stupor he was in. The world slowly came back to Sam as he stretched out his hand and ran it along the dirty carpet underneath, figuring out he was on the floor. His back was wedged into the corner and he felt the pain in his shoulder blades from pressing hard against the wall. His lungs hurt, as if they were previously fighting for air, and his throat felt tight. Pretty soon Sam recognized the starbursts in the motel room. They were still in Ohio.

"What happened?" Sam barely choked out, having trouble talking.

"You tell me. I woke up and you were here, backing away from something that was attacking you."

"I…I don't remember anything. Did you see something?"

"No, there was nothing here. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were having a bad dream. Are you hurt?"

Sam raised his shaking hand to his face, shocked to find his cheeks were soaked with tears. How could all this happen from a dream? Even his worst nightmares weren't this bad. Last thing he remembered was falling asleep. He glanced over to the tossed aside covers hanging off the edge of his bed. Was he dragged from it, or did he get out on his own?

"Answer the question Sammy."

"No, I'm not hurt. I just had a bad dream."

Dean stood up and stretched out his hand, helping Sam to his feet. Sam looked around, still very stunned, everything feeling unfamiliar overtop his battered emotional state. His insides hurt, as if he'd been crying for a month. He wearily made his way back to his bed and sank down on the edge, seeing from the clock it was three am. Nothing came back to him.

"Was it about Jess again?"

"I don't know. Why ask that?"

"Because you were saying her name, but having trouble getting it out louder than a whisper."

Sam didn't have any answers, continuing his fight to gain perspective and bearing. He wondered why he couldn't remember his dream. He only knew he had been through something horrifying by the way he felt. What could possibly involve Jess that would have him that scared?

"Earth to Sam," Dean said, snapping his fingers in front of his vacant brother.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to remember."

Dean suspected he needed to give Sam some more time, but he was really bothered by this as well. They both were under a lot of pressure lately, but maybe the deadline was affecting Sam more than he was letting on. Or maybe that Crocotta beat him around a bit too much. No matter what was happening, it was taking its toll and Sam was falling apart. Dean didn't know how to help. "Don't force it. It'll come back to you."

Sam nodded and laid flat on his back, taking in a deep breath and staring at the ceiling. All of a sudden something flashed in his mind. _Let him go._

"What is it?" Dean asked, spotting that familiar look of revelation from the widening of Sam's eyes.

"Nothing. I'm not feeling too good." Sam clutched his stomach, reacting to the sudden sharp pain.

"I told you about eating burritos before bedtime. Stuff like that triggers nightmares and stomach aches."

"That was you," Sam replied, holding onto his stomach harder, waiting for the pain to pass.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, helplessly watching him work through his agony. He didn't recall this type of pain ever happening after one of Sam's intense dreams before. "Hey, do we need to get you a doctor?"

Suddenly the sharp pain passed and Sam's body slackened back on the bed. His sharp breaths were the only sound in the room now, as he tried to recover from his episode. "I'm okay now."

Dean took another long glance, and then worked his way slowly back to his own bed, watching his brother try to pull it all together. "Not by a long shot."

--

Matthew suddenly sat up, abruptly waking from his sleep. He turned to look at his clock. It was only midnight. He turned his eyes forward, and that's when he spotted a dark figure standing there. "Who are you?" He reached over and turned on the light, his eyes hurting from the sudden brightness. A few seconds later, she was in focus.

"Let him go," she said with her ethereal voice.

"Jessica?" He got up and walked toward her, stopping as soon as her figure flashed out and in.

"Dean must die, Sam,"she said. "He belongs in Hell."

"Dean? You mean Sam's brother? He's already dead. He died with Sam." Matthew found himself stepping backward when Jess moved toward him. Something didn't seem right. This wasn't like before. He kept going back until he hit the corner, but Jessica kept coming. He pressed himself hard into the wall, inflicting some pain in the process. "Don't come closer," he warned, to no avail.

She stretched out her arm and held him by the throat, an enraged look on her face. "LET HIM GO!" She said, her grip becoming tighter.

Matthew felt the terror sweep through him as his breath was cut off. His lungs began to hurt from the lack of air, and he wasn't strong enough to fight back. He had to come up with some way to get her to stop, and fast. "Okay, I'm letting go," he replied, trying to choke out an audible reply.

Jessica paused and tilted her head, checking to see if he was sincere. Just as Matthew saw grey forming at the edges of his eyes, she loosened her grip and smiled, slowly lowering her arm. She gave him a long, satisfied stare. "Good, now you can't leave me again." She flashed out and in, then disappeared.

Matthew sank to the floor in the corner, leaning tight against the walls for support. He caught a few tears rolling down his cheek, and then clutched his aching stomach. He always had that problem with extreme stress, that sharp stabbing pain that wouldn't quit until he calmed down. After a few minutes of deep breaths, the pain subsided.

His mind tried to make sense of it all. He hadn't seen Jessica's ghost in a month, and now she came back to kill him? Maybe it wasn't him she wanted to kill, but Sam. Of course, Sam was already dead, how could she kill him? He couldn't take this anymore. His ghost problem was getting dangerous now. It was time to seek out some help.

--

They'd been finding several demons lately. Sam wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but so far it wasn't good since none of them would reveal who owned the contract. This girl though, something about her from the moment he laid eyes on her told him she wasn't right. Now they had her in a devil's trap, but that uneasy feeling wasn't going away.

"What's the matter Sam? Timeline getting a little too close for comfort?"

"I don't believe he was talking to you, bitch." Dean wasn't in the mood to deal with a demon preying on Sam's vulnerabilities. If it wasn't for Sam's insistence on finding out who holds the contract, she'd be back in Hell by now.

"Oh, but he should talk to me. I might have some answers for him." Her glare left Sam unsettled and confused, as if she was sending him signals with her mind.

"Eyes over here," Dean said, yanking her chin over to face him. "Who holds the contract?"

"Even if I told you, which I won't, there's no way it's gonna help you. You're doomed."

"Then a name won't hurt will it?"

Her eyes again drifted beyond Dean's shoulder over to Sam. "It looks something like this." She closed her eyes, and Sam was awash with panic when a dark vision hit him. It revealed a stormy place, cables everywhere, and the overall feel of intense suffering. Then he heard Dean screaming. Sam gasped, the horror too real for him to take.

"Stop it bitch!" Dean said, smacking her across the face hard. She opened her eyes and smiled, looking back at Sam. "Not pretty, is it?"

Dean turned toward Sam and picked up on the fact he was trying to hide something disturbing. "Send her back," he ordered.

"But Dean, she knows-"

"We can't trust her. Send her back, now."

Sam nodded and stepped forward, reciting the exorcism. As she wretched in pain, pulling against the ropes, the grin never left her face. "Let him go."

Sam felt his heart jump, for that image of Jessica saying that in his dream flashed in his mind. He paused, needing to know more of what that meant, but he felt a nudge on his shoulder from Dean.

"Finish it."

Sam gave the demon one last look, and accepted that Dean was right, she was messing with him. He finished the exorcism, and black smoke rose from the girl's mouth. She went limp, with no signs of life.

"What was that all about?" Dean asked, not at all happy over allowing the exchange.

"She was just trying to mess with my mind. You know, demon."

Dean knew his brother wasn't telling the truth, but wasn't sure if what happened meant anything. He relented, knowing that Sam was too good at hiding things to give him any clues. "Okay, let's take care of her and go."

Sam nodded, and as they stepped forward to retrieve the body, Sam clutched his suddenly throbbing head. He sank to his knees, and Dean grabbed him in support. "Sam!" he shouted, but didn't get a response. He knew Sam couldn't respond. He never could before when having a vision.

A minute later Sam was back, and Dean pulled him up, leading him over to a nearby chair. "What'd you see?"

Sam was reluctant to tell him, still groaning in pain over his pulsing head.

"Come on Sam. I know that was a vision. What did you see?"

Sam looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, wishing the vivid image would go from his mind. "You in Hell."

--

"I don't believe this," Matthew said as they approached the tiny house. "Come on, you think the neon sign is going to help with credibility?"

"I've been asking around," Sheila said, leading him to the front door. "Several people have recommended him."

"Sure, for parties. You think he can actually help with our problem?"

"We can only find out by talking with him."

"What, like the other two quacks we tried? I tell you, it's all a setup. They aren't real. Jessica is…"

"Real? We have nothing to lose here. What's another person to think you're nuts." Sheila knocked on the door, and a short man with white hair answered. He stared at them both inquisitively, but said nothing.

"Friends sent us. We'd like a reading."

"Come on in," he said, clearing a path in the doorway for them to enter. They entered a small living room with a couch and two chairs. The man took his spot on one of the chairs, and Sheila and Matthew sat together on the couch.

"My name is Dom, and you're not here for a reading," the man said.

"That's not true," Sheila said.

"I've seen reluctant tagalongs many times before," he said pointing to Matthew, "but you've seen something and don't know what to make of it."

Matthew tried to deny with an expression of shock, but then let down his guard and nodded.

Dom leaned forward and grabbed Matthew's hand, examining his palm. He closed his eyes and then gasped, dropping the hand and jerking backward. "The person you seek, demons surround him."

"He's in Hell?" Matthew wondered maybe that was why Jessica couldn't find Sam.

"No, but at one time he ascended from a dark place and much of his soul is tainted."

"What do you mean by ascended?" Sheila asked, both her and Matthew confused by the comment.

"He's a higher form, with great power."

"Yeah, well if he's a higher power, why can't he stop his dead girlfriend from burning up constantly and attacking me in my apartment?" Matthew was getting frustrated with vague answers.

"Those two must meet again, but it can't happen right now. There's unfinished business."

Matthew got up and grabbed Sheila's hand. "That's enough. We're dealing with another fraud here."

Sheila got up, her face apologetic to the man who wouldn't stop his stare. Matthew headed for the door with Sheila in tow, not interested in what he had to say.

"You must bring Sam to Jessica. Only she can help him."

Matthew whipped around, for Dom had his attention. "How did you know their names? Oh yeah, the psychic thing." He was still skeptical, but couldn't exactly dismiss it as a lucky guess either. "How could I possibly find Sam anyway? He's dead."

"Go to Kansas. Your answers start there."

"No way."

"Both will suffer terribly unless you do."

"Then maybe I need to find a new place to live." Matthew pulled Sheila through the doorway and slammed the door behind him. As they walked out to the car, Matthew grabbed his head, feeling the sharp stab of an intense migraine. He groaned in agony.

"Matthew, are you alright?"

He straightened up, still wincing in pain, but whatever hit him subsided. "Yeah, it was just a strange flash of something. I think that psychic did something to me."

"What did you see?"

Matthew shook his head, not sure how he could explain it. "It was really quick, I couldn't make much of it out but-"

"But what?"

"If I didn't know better, I saw a man suffering in some sort of Hell."

--

Sam suddenly shot up, abruptly waking from his sleep. He was at the laptop, and must have drifted off during research. The last thing he wanted to do was sleep right now. He saw the silhouette of a person in the dark corner of the room, and it was slowly stepping toward him.

"Dean must die, Sam."

Sam shook his head and stood up, backing away from the person approaching him, knowing full well he was dealing with an angry spirit. "Why are you doing this Jess?"

"Let him go." She didn't stop her march forward, eventually pinning Sam in the corner.

"I can't do that," Sam said, closing his eyes and telling himself this wasn't real.

"LET HIM GO!" She clasped her hand around his throat and tightened her grip, cutting off his supply of air. Sam struggled, trying to pry her fingers off him, to no avail. She was too powerful.

"Why Jess?" He asked with soft voice, wondering how she became an angry spirit out to hurt him. He looked over at a sleeping Dean, wanting to cry out for help, hoping he would wake up and see his struggle, but her hand pressed against his windpipe harder, rendering him unable to speak. He suddenly he felt weakness in his body as his resisting arms fell to his side. He couldn't fight anymore, and wished she would release him before it was too late.

"You can't leave me again. Dean must die."

Sam didn't have time to figure out what that meant, for everything went fuzzy just before it went dark.

--

**a/n: So, did that ratchet up the angst a notch? Is this still going in an interesting direction? Feedback is love, and most appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Sorry, the holiday weekend caused an update delay. Here's a nice long one, complete with plot twists. Happy reading!**

**--**

"Huh!" Sam shot up, startled out of his less than pleasant sleep. Often times he didn't sleep comfortably, but this time was particularly bad. Something didn't feel right. He looked down to discover he was in his bed, sitting on top of the covers with his clothes still on.

"I'm not sure how of much of this I can take Sam."

Sam turned his head in the direction of his worried brother's voice, who was sitting nearby at the table by the window, working on the computer. He ran his hand through his thick hair, his entire being shaken by an unsettled panic. He tried to remember how he got to bed last night, and why he was so spooked.

"You're welcome by the way," Dean said, now lifting his eyes up from the screen.

"What?"

"I found you in the corner again, but this time you wouldn't wake up. I actually had to pull you into bed. I'll tell ya, it was a lot easier when you were a kid."

"I…"

"Let me guess, you don't remember."

Dean was acting tough, so Sam knew that his latest incident scared him. All of a sudden, something hit him. He got up and rushed to the bathroom, going straight for the mirror. He instantly noticed his bloodshot eyes and flushed face, then examined his neck, but didn't find any bruises. _I remember being strangled. _Now he was really confused, shuffling back into the room, feeling Dean's watchful eye.

"Don't look at me like that," Sam said, sinking wearily down onto the edge of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for any strange news or police reports in Palo Alto."

"Dean-"

"Your nightmares are getting worse, and you're having visions. It couldn't hurt."

"It probably has nothing to do with Stanford."

"Maybe not, but it doesn't hurt to check." Dean clicked on another link, but again got frustrated with the result.

"Well? Anything?"

"Nada," Dean said, closing the laptop. "All quiet on the western front. Maybe Bobby will find something."

"You shouldn't bother him with this. He's working on your problem. We don't have much time." Anger welled with Sam over Dean straying from the plan.

"Aren't you one for stating the obvious? Anyway, he's going to find someone who could check in on your old place, maybe find the guy you're dreaming about."

"Dean, that's not going to help."

"We've got to try something, Sam. I can't handle seeing you like this. This isn't going away."

Sam huffed in contempt, not at all pleased by the distraction. Whatever was happening to him wasn't about to result in an eternity in Hell. Dean needed to get his priorities straight. "What else did Bobby say?"

"He said in the meantime to let this go. We've got bigger fish to fry."

"There's a man that knows what he's talking about. He know we're on our way there?"

"Yep, although I'm not sure what else we'll find at his place. Both of you have read every book twice and jumped down every rabbit hole out there. I'm tired of it all turning out to be nothing. We should keep doing our jobs, like checking out this thing in California."

"No," Sam said, pursing his lips in defiance. "He's looking for a way to find Lilith. It's our only chance."

Now it was Dean's turn not to be pleased. "Sam, can't you let it go?"

Sam threw Dean an incredulous glare, wondering why he would even say that. "Not a chance. We need to get to Bobby's."

Dean got up, realizing he was wasting words. "We better go then. Last I looked, Pennsylvania and South Dakota aren't cohabitating.

Sam nodded and got up, wincing in pain over his spinning head. He still didn't feel right. He worked through it and grabbed his bag, throwing some stray items in before closing. He saw that Dean was ready to go as well, so they headed out the door in silence. As he watched his brother pack the trunk, Sam wished he could make it to Bobby's without another incident so that Dean would forget about this. He planned on staying awake the entire trip.

--

"I'm going to Kansas." A shaken Matthew entered Sheila's apartment, looking like he hadn't gotten any sleep.

"Why? I mean, I always thought you should go, but what made you finally decided to do it?"

"Now I'm having dreams. I haven't been in the apartment since the last incident, and Jessica is now haunting my dreams. She grabbed me by the throat again and screamed the same thing she told me before, 'Let him go'."

"How's this happening?" Sheila from the beginning had been intrigued by Matthew's ghost problem, but now she was scared for him. This was getting too intense.

"I don't know, but I convinced Professor Daniels to send me on a research trip at the University of Kansas. I told him I had a new approach to my thesis."

"New approach?"

"I'm going to pursue a specific case study on deviant behavior, to strengthen my case. I'll have full access to resources at the university."

Sheila smiled. "A case study perhaps on one Winchester family?"

"Yep." Matthew wasn't as pleased as she was about the plan. He was very nervous, for whatever he found out could make things worse. He had no choice now, this had to stop.

"When do you leave?"

"Tonight. I'm going back to my apartment. Hopefully I can get some more clues out of this before I go."

Sheila grabbed her coat. "I'm coming with you."

"I don't advise that. If by small chance Jessica does show up, she doesn't need to be scaring the both of us."

"Are you kidding? You need all the help you can get. I'm also going stay there while you're gone too. Someone needs to be on ghost watch, just in case."

--

"Want me to drive?" Sam asked. He noticed Dean's eyelids drooping a bit.

"What, and you crash my baby while having one of your freaky visions? No thanks." Dean had to admit he was tired, but he'd get more coffee on the next stop.

Sam ignored his comment, for a response wouldn't do any good. He just wanted to leave it alone.

"So, why would an angry spirit be bothering you now? I mean it's been two years, why is she coming after you now?"

"What makes you think it's an angry spirit?" Sam replied with irritation. "Even if it was, they're usually confined to the area where they died. It doesn't fit."

"Maybe all that psychic weirdness in you lets you channel spirits."

"Psychic weirdness? Dude?"

"You have to admit, it would explain things."

"If that's the case, I would have had other run ins by now. We're just guessing. Can we just drop this?"

"Sure Sam, what else would you like to talk about? You know, you missed _Steel Magnolias_ on the TV last night. I know how that movie always made you cry. I wish I could have taped it for you, just so I could see you fall apart like a little girl."

"Bite me."

"I'm not letting this go Sam. Now, if it isn't an angry spirit, what is it? A death omen? A demon?"

Sam shook his head. They had a long time until Bobby's house, so humoring Dean was his only choice. "I have no idea."

--

Sheila wondered if she should answer the door. After all, she was only watching Matthew's place for Jessica, not other visitors. When the knock got louder and she heard the locked doorknob jiggle, she went to the door.

"Yes officer?"

"Sorry to bother you ma'am. I'm checking into a report of a disturbance."

"A disturbance?"

"Complaints of screaming in the middle of the night. A woman."

"Uh, this isn't my place. My friend who lives here is away on a research trip."

"Yes, I have down that the person who lives here is Matthew Walker. I really need to get hold of him ma'am. Is there a number he can be reached?"

She nodded and opened the door wider, allowing the officer to come in. "I can write down Matthew's cell number. He's en route right now."

The officer came in and did a visual examination of the place. "Where'd he go?"

"Lawrence, Kansas." Sheila went to the desk for a notepad, and saw the officer moving through the apartment looking around. "Can I help you find something?"

"A neighbor reported screaming and a loud bang on multiple occasions. Did Matthew mention having a fight with someone, like a girlfriend?"

"No, he didn't mention anything." Sheila hoped she was a good liar, for she knew this guy wouldn't understand the whole Jessica thing. "He doesn't have a girlfriend and lives alone."

"Does he have any other friends that hang around?"

"None other than me. I've been here since yesterday and it's been very quiet. When did the incident happen?"

"The report was filed yesterday, but the complaint said it's happened a few times over the last month. I'm doing this as a formality. Do you mind if I check out the bedroom?"

Sheila didn't understand why, but she had nothing to hide. "Sure, go ahead."

The officer stepped into the bedroom, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He looked behind him, and saw Sheila distracted in the other room. He pulled out a small EMF reader out of his pocket. After that went off the charts, he could have sworn he heard scratching in the floorboards. Then the lights flickered.

"That happens all the time," Sheila said, coming into the room. "Rolling blackouts I'm sure."

The officer slipped the EMF reader back in his pocket and turned around. "Yes ma'am. I get that at my place too. Thanks for your time; I don't see anything unusual here."

Sheila handed him the piece of paper with the phone number. "Matthew is very quiet. I'm sure the neighbor is mistaken."

"I'm sure you're right. Thank you for your time ma'am." The officer left, going down the long stairs and pulling out his cell phone once he was out of sight.

"Bobby, it's Jake...Yeah, something's up. I just spoke with this Matthew guy's friend, and she's hiding something. Definite signs of a spirit. You'll never guess where Matthew is."

--

"'Bout time you boys got here. What'd you do, take the scenic tour?"

"Sure did. Last I heard, Hell don't have purple mountains majesty and amber waves of grain," a weary Dean joked. They had driven all night, and he didn't rest any because Sam wouldn't. Bobby ignored him and went to fetch beers.

Dean shuffled his feet a short distance and collapsed on the couch, about ready to fall asleep, while Sam went to look at the latest stack of open books on the table.

"Give it a rest Sammy."

Sam ignored him and sat down at the table, one of the open pages catching his eye. Within a minute Bobby was back with the beer. He saw Dean was already asleep. He handed a beer to Sam, and took a seat next to him.

"Sam, Dean had me do some checking about your problem."

"He told me," Sam replied, his eyes never lifting from the page. "I told him it's a waste of time."

"Yeah, well, I had a cop friend of mine check it out and something is definitely up. It sounds like the guy in your old apartment was visited by something."

"What, he told him that?"

"No, because he wasn't there. My friend talked to a gal looking after the place and found signs all over the bedroom. The guy took a trip. Guess where?"

Sam looked at Bobby and shook his head.

"Lawrence, Kansas."

Sam rolled his eyes and let the page he was turning drop down. "Oh come on, we don't have time for this now."

"I know. I'm not saying we should do anything about it. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Sam rubbed his eyes in exhaustion, taking in a deep breath. "Okay. Have you had any luck with the deal?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope, got nothing."

Sam went back to reading. "Then we've got to get busy."

Bobby closed the book. "That'll wait a few hours. Go join your brother and get some sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"No, you're falling over exhausted. Now git."

Sam sighed in reluctance and got up, taking a spot on a nearby recliner. He focused on his sleeping brother, wondering how he could rest so peacefully with what he was facing. He didn't even want to think about living without Dean. He lived that six months before, and he just couldn't do it again. He'd rather die. Before long his morbid thoughts drifted into a state of unconsciousness.

--

_One Week Later_

Matthew walked out of the building briskly, stewing over how that visit was a waste of time. For a parapsychologist, he certainly wasn't open to talking ghost sightings. No wonder his department was having issues with funding. He found a bench outside and sat down, watching students walk by. It wasn't long ago he was one of those simple students, not knowing what he knew now. He pulled out the copy of the newspaper clipping he found in the library. "Fire Claims Life of Young Mother." He saw the devastated faces of the surviving father and his two young sons, one who was only an infant. He hoped to be able to find John Winchester, but he had no luck there either. Kansas was turning out to be a bust.

"A pretty sad story, isn't it?"

Matthew jerked around, to see the woman behind him. "Excuse me?"

"The Winchesters. That fire affected them in more ways than you'll ever know."

"Did you know the Winchesters?"

The woman walked around the bench and calmly took a place next to him. "Yes, I did."

Matthew inched over a little, not sure what to make of this person next to him. Was it dumb luck that she happened to see the article at that exact moment? "Do you know where I can find John Winchester?"

"Now why would you want to do that?"

"I heard about Sam and Dean. I wanted to offer my condolences."

The woman lightly chuckled. "That's a pretty bad lie Matthew. Although, I don't think your intentions are wrong."

Matthew's heart sank and his eyes grew wide. "How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot about you. It's strange how much of an open book you are. So you only recently started believing in spirits? Strange way to find out they exist."

Matthew gazed her with shock, unsure how to address her comment. He didn't think he should be phased by anything anymore, but he was. "Uh, well…who are you?"

"My name's Missouri."

"Okay, Missouri, how do you know so much about me?"

"I've been waiting for you Matthew. I knew you'd come here."

"I've been here for a week. You only just now found me?"

"The timing wasn't right until now."

Matthew clenched his fists and wanted to pound on something. He was getting tired of games of half answers from everyone he ran into. "You know, I'm just ready to go home and give this up. It was a mistake to come."

"Matthew, whatever is happening to you, you know there's a purpose behind it. You're here for a reason, so why not hold out for your answers?"

"Are you going to give me any? Where can I find John Winchester?"

"I'm afraid he's dead dear."

"There's no official record of that."

"No, there isn't. I just know."

Matthew pursed his lips and nodded, for he was giving up the wild goose chase. "Okay, then my work here is done. He was my last hope." He got up and stepped away.

"Jessica isn't going to leave you alone. You must deliver Sam to her."

Matthew froze and turned around, now really befuddled by what he was hearing. "Now how can I do that? The only thing left of Sam Winchester is a burned up corpse in Colorado. If Jessica can't find him, how can I?"

Missouri smiled and got up. "I can to put you in touch with a guy. He's a specialist in this sort of thing. I have to warn you though, you're going to be introduced to a world that will defy all logic. It'll affect you forever."

"What, even more than what's happened to me now?"

"Way more. There are people out there everyday that see things that you can only imagine in your worst nightmare. Jessica will seem like the result of a séance at a slumber party. Are you ready for that?"

Matthew gulped, and looked into Missouri's dead serious eyes. "I'm not sure."

"Take your time to think about it then." She fished into her pocket. "If you need my help, this is where I can be reached."

Matthew watched her walk away, and then stared at the card dumbfounded. He had no idea what to do next.

--

Dean snapped awake, hearing the commotion coming from a few feet in front of him. He saw Sam in corner, tears streaming down his face, swiping at air.

Bobby stood in the middle of the room, watching Sam carefully. He grabbed onto a lunging Dean, holding him back.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted.

"Shhh," Bobby instructed, still fighting to hold Dean back. "You can't disturb him."

"What's going on?" Dean asked in a hushed voice.

"I think he's having a walking reverie."

"A what? How is this not a nightmare?"

"It's hard to explain, but what he's experiencing can only happen under certain circumstances."

"Why are you doing this Jess?" Sam tearfully pleaded, before he began to make choking noises. Dean looked frantically at Bobby, but he still held him back and shook his head.

"He needs help Bobby."

"It won't kill 'im. It just messes with his head."

"What messes with his head?"

Sam stopped choking and went limp, sliding down the wall to the floor. Bobby let Dean go and they both went over to help Sam.

"What's doing this to him?" Dean asked as he took one side of Sam and Bobby took the other. They dragged him back to his bed.

"Not what, who. He's shifting into another reality, and something over there is pissed at him."

"Or someone. Like Jessica?"

"I don't know. It could be anything."

They gently placed Sam onto the bed and made him as comfortable as possible, noticing the trauma still lingering on his face. Dean knew from experience he'd be out a while. They stepped out of the room to talk in the hallway.

"Why is this shifting happening to him?"

Bobby sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I've only seen this once before. It happened to a guy who shouldn't have-" He gazed at Dean, not sure if he should share this information. He was only guessing.

"What Bobby? The guy shouldn't have what?"

"Never mind, I'm sure it's not the same thing." Bobby saw Dean's frustrated stare, and sensed he was going to reach out and choke him at any second. He reluctantly stopped his avoidance. "He was woken from a soul sleep."

Dean's confused look told him he still didn't understand.

"He died and shouldn't have come back."


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: This is my favorite chapter thus far. I'm really geeked about it. Enjoy!**

**--**

A tinge of regret over the deal always gnawed at Dean, but after hearing Bobby, it now felt like a punch in the gut. His instincts often served him well, but when mixed with grief, well, even good intentions turn bad. He didn't want to question what he had done, but now it couldn't be avoided. He created a mess and wanted to fix it.

Bobby led Dean into the other bedroom, for he didn't want to risk Sam hearing anything, especially when he was only speculating.

"What…what do you mean, he shouldn't have come back?" Dean asked, keeping his voice low.

Bobby could see how torn apart Dean was over what he told him, exactly what he wanted to avoid. "You know what I'm talking about, the whole spiritual balance thing. Disrupt that and bad shit happens. Some things weren't meant to be tampered with, like death."

"What happened to this other guy? Did he go psycho or something?" The pain in his stomach was stinging now.

Bobby's face fell. "Yeah, that's exactly what happened. That ain't the worst of it."

"It gets worse?"

"Eventually, whatever was after him got him. It took a while and a crap load of human suffering in the process. It don't usually affect just the person who came back. Others get connected for some unknown reason, and they're usually the ones who have no business getting involved."

Dean's heart grew sicker. It was as bad as he feared. "Are you saying innocent people can get hurt?"

"Yeah."

Dean couldn't find the right words, moving a few gentle steps in disbelief before sinking into a chair. He shook his head, unable to grasp it all. "No, Sam knows better. He's strong. He won't turn out like that."

"Look, it might not even be that. What's happening could be from stress too. We know Sam is different."

"As in psychic powers different."

Bobby's silence confirmed that was exactly what he was talking about.

Dean's eyes cast downward, taking the brief pause to let Bobby's assurance sink in. Maybe this could be fixed. "So…so what do we do in the meantime?"

"Nothing. You've got a week left. His problem can wait."

Dean's head shot up, a new flare in his previously worried eyes. Protecting Sam should be their only worry. "If anything, we only have a week to fix Sam. He needs me."

Bobby released a small breath of resignation, knowing that talking sense into a Winchester was an impossible task. "Dean, Sam won't hear of it, and neither will I. The best way to help him is to get out of your mess first."

Dean studied the earnest face of this man, this father figure, the one from whom he learned to never panic, the one who taught him to keep a level head no matter what. Even his own father couldn't teach him that. "Bobby, promise me if I don't make it, you'll fix this for Sam."

"Dean, you're not gonna-"

"Just promise me! Please, consider it a dying man's last request. You're the only person I trust in this world, and Sam needs someone to look out for him. He ain't right, he never has been and you and I both know that as much as it pains me to say it. He deserves his second chance."

Bobby wasn't one to accept dying requests when the person wasn't near dead yet, but Dean needed that peace of mind right now. "Okay. I promise," he answered with a solemn voice.

Dean looked at him with gratitude and relief. "Thanks."

"But hear this, we're gonna do everything this week to make sure I don't have to deliver on that promise. No more distractions."

Dean gave him a sad smile and nodded. "Yes Sir."

"Good. I'll be downstairs, working on saving your ass. Let me know when Sam wakes up."

Dean watched Bobby leave, and then went back into the bedroom, taking his place nearby Sam. He knew Sam was a grown man that could take care of himself, but lying there, he seemed so vulnerable. The guilt swelled within, for the idea didn't sit right, the thought of leaving such a burden for those that mattered the most. Bobby was his only hope now, but somehow, that idea was comforting.

--

Matthew wasn't sure what compelled him to stop, but the church called his name as soon as he drove by. He needed inspiration, faith, comfort, anything to shake the spooky feeling of the recurring dream he had last night. He knew Jessica wouldn't kill him, yet the passing out from supposedly choking was getting a little too real for his liking. Since Jessica wouldn't leave him alone no matter where he was, he might as well go home. This trip wasn't giving him the answers he needed, and his patience was shot.

He visited Missouri, but she told him to hang on a little while longer, for the time wasn't right. Other digging he did on the Winchester family resulted in a depressing story, but no new information. He still didn't find out why John Winchester and his sons went underground after the fire. The FBI profile painted him as some sort of sociopath, but all his old friends said otherwise. Nothing added up.

The oversized wooden door to the massive cathedral was propped open, extending an open invitation to all visitors. Matthew stepped inside, each step he made echoing through the large sanctuary, bouncing off the stone walls and the images of fallen saints on the stained glass windows. He went to the alter, lit two candles, and said a prayer for poor Jessica and Sam, wherever they might be. That was the only thing he hadn't tried yet and didn't think it could hurt. The images of their suffering lingered while he walked over to an empty pew and sat down, taking in the small solace the cathedral provided.

"Your burden seems heavy."

Matthew looked to his side to see a priest towering over him. He had to admit, a man in cloth probably wouldn't judge him for spouting crazy ghost stories. "I may have seen the afterlife Father. It's not white fluffy clouds."

The Father took immediate interest and sat down next to him. "What does it look like?"

"Pain, suffering, torment. It's happening to those that didn't deserve it."

"That could have been the judgment. We don't know what happened between them and God when they passed."

Matthew wanted to believe that, but the images were too real. This was more than an ethereal sentence. "She was a sweet girl, innocent, happy. She didn't deserve her fate. Now she hangs in limbo, angry, waiting for someone who doesn't come to her, even though he's ..." Matthew stopped, for what he was saying was getting a little too weird for even him.

"He's what my son?"

Matthew tried to go on, but the answer got stuck in his throat. "Father, can the dead exist to torment the living?"

"I don't know son. The world beyond is full of many unknowns. I do believe that God has a purpose, and whatever you're experiencing is happening for a reason."

"I thought so at first too, but the more I learn, the more I see cruel fate. There's no reason in any of it."

"Be patient. Reasons often follow their own schedule. Usually there's unfinished business."

Matthew felt his insides turn out and he focused on the Father, his eyes wide in astonishment. "Unfinished business? Weird."

The Father didn't understand. "What is it?"

Matthew shook it off and got up, getting the exact answer he needed. "I don't believe in coincidence anymore. This is happening for a reason. Thanks for reminding me."

The Father was puzzled, but pleased to be assistance. "Now what for you son?"

"I can't go home yet. It may take a while, but I know something will guide me to what I need." He smiled at the Father and left, ready to see if Missouri had anything new for him.

--

_One Week Later_

The old and uncomfortable motel chair barely supported the weight of Sam's lanky frame, both completely worn down by the rigors of this world. Sam leaned backward, not noticing the creak, and stretched his long legs in front of him. He clasped his hands firmly and rested them on his stomach, on top of the large pool of his brother's blood staining his shirt. Time stood still, and he wasn't sure he could ever move from this spot again.

Tears streamed from his eyes, obscuring the gruesome view of all he had left in this world. The corpse on the bed was cold by the time Sam put him there, and the only color now staying with Dean was from splattered blood. He didn't look at peace, and Sam didn't want to speculate the torment Dean was experiencing right now. All those demons, chomping at the bit for a year to get their hands on him, were now celebrating a day of retribution that had finally come. "Dean," he whispered, hoping that somehow he would get an answer, but none came.

He was too caught up in the pain, the loss, the disbelief, that he didn't hear the knock on the door, or the person letting himself in.

"Sam," Bobby said calmly. He didn't know what say in times like these. He didn't know how to deal with Dean a year earlier, so he was certainly at a loss for words now.

"Everything all taken care of?" Sam asked with gruff voice, not changing his position.

"Yeah, they're scarred for life, but alive." Bobby stepped over Sam's long legs, and sat in the chair next to him. A devastated Sam didn't flinch, still studying the mangled mess in front of him.

"I failed him Bobby." Sam bit his lip to fight back any more sobbing.

"No you didn't. You did all you could. We both did." Sam took no comfort in those words, shutting himself off further and refusing to share the burden of his somber vigil.

Bobby gave Sam a few minutes, but he realized no amount of time was going to make this easier. "Sam, can you tell me what happened?"

Sam wiped the tears off his cheeks, not sure he wanted to tell the story. He wasn't sure he'd ever want to share what happened. It was too painful, too gruesome. No man should have to die like that, especially his brother. "Lilith took over Ruby. She was in the room with us and let the hounds in. They…" Sam buried his head in his hand and he let out a staggered sob. The vivid images of that scene were burned in his mind forever, and he wanted them gone.

"How'd you survive? Didn't Lilith try to kill you too?"

Sam lifted his face from his hand, not ready to explain that either. "I don't know. Lilith tried to kill me, but she couldn't."

"She couldn't?"

"Nothing she did worked on me. She escaped before I could stab her." Sam examined the torn shirt on Dean, soaked entirely in blood, and couldn't hold back more tears. "I don't know why it didn't happen, but I should be dead."

"Sam, I'm sorry you have to go through this, but if you had died Dean's death would have been for nothing."

"What about when I died? Why should I get a life now and not him? It's…" Sam let out puff of hopeless despair. "It's not fair. I won't stop trying to get him back."

Bobby knew he wouldn't, but also knew there were rules. "I'll help ya, but you need to remember Dean's wishes. The cycle ends here. Sacrifice isn't an option, nor is harm coming to others."

Sam took another long, heartbreaking gaze at his brother. A year ago Dean was in this same situation, and he now understood why he grew desperate. Staring at a cold, prone, listless body, helpless to do anything but wallow in pain; that would drive anyone to a crazy act. He'd do the exact same thing, but for him, it wasn't an option. "Okay."

Bobby nodded, and reached into the bag he brought with him. He pulled out two plastic cups, and a bottle of whiskey. "You know, when you were dead, Dean wouldn't eat a thing I brought him. All he touched was this stuff."

Sam cracked a tiny smile. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

Bobby handed him the half full cup, and took the other for himself, holding it up in a toast. Sam raised his cup, and it met Bobby's with a somber touch. They didn't need to say who their tribute was for. They slammed the harsh liquor down their throats, both welcoming the punch from their brief form of escape. Sam put his empty cup down, and Bobby poured more.

--

Matthew knocked on the door, greeted quite differently than he was the last time. The pleasant smile was replaced by red swollen eyes and dried tears. "Is something wrong Missouri?"

"Come in Matthew." She somberly led him into the parlor, both taking seats on the couch. "It's time now."

"What's going on?" Matthew felt huge concern for this woman he barely knew, for he felt every vibe of her distress. Something wasn't right.

"Lots of suffering, and now a tormented soul. There will be no rest." Missouri cleared the lump in her throat and went on, even though a small tear watered in the corner of her eye. "I don't think Sam is dead Matthew."

"What?"

"His pain is different. I feel it now. He grieves among the living."

"How? Where?"

"I'm not sure. But I can tell you where to go to find out. We were waiting for this moment to happen."

"I…I don't understand."

She reached out, grasping with her fingers pendant around his neck. "Matthew, what's happening is you've got some sort of spiritual connection to Sam. Your apartment has something to do with it, but so does this."

"What, this? It's a useless trinket I got in a flea market last time I was in Lawrence."

"It's an amulet, and it belonged to Mary Winchester."

Matthew didn't think he could take any more surprises. "How do you know that?"

"I can feel its power. I know."

Matthew gazed at the charm in disbelief as Missouri let it drop back to his chest. What were the odds? "There's something bigger at work here. A master plan."

Missouri nodded. "Yes."

"So if Sam is still alive, his death didn't bring Jessica back. Was it me?"

Missouri nodded again. "This world is loaded with all sorts of spiritual portals, and with the right combination, one opens up. You made a connection."

"What, like Carol Anne's closet in Poltergeist?"

She smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

"What does Jessica, or Sam, or the Beast want with me?"

"I don't know. Sam used to suffer from terrifying nightmares all the time. It was because of his psychic abilities."

"Sam's psychic? Whoa, the plot thickens."

Missouri smiled over his ability to respond to something so intense with a light hearted comment. She liked this kid. "Matthew. There was a huge disturbance last night, one that was always destined to be corrected. Being chosen for this was not by accident."

Matthew raised himself up and paced around, moving his hand to the back of his neck. This had been going on for a couple months now, and he wanted it to end. "I have no choice. Whatever's happening, I have to see it through."

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"What do I need to do?"

Missouri reached in her pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to Matthew. "His name is Bobby Singer. He and John Winchester were close friends, and Sam and Dean are like sons to him. You need to visit him."

Matthew nodded and read the card. "Singer Auto Salvage? South Dakota?"

"These experts have all sorts of professions."

"Should I call first?"

"Wouldn't be a good idea. He's not going to believe your story. Just tell him what you told me. When he sees you, he'll know if you're lying or not."

Matthew nodded, putting the card in his pocket. "Then it looks like I'm taking a road trip."

Missouri got up and took his hand. "This is the last I can do for you Matthew. You're on your own now. I wish you luck."

Matthew felt an overwhelming calm sweep through him from her touch. He needed that assurance, for whatever he was facing scared the crap out of him. "Thanks Missouri, for everything."

He left and went to his car, and started driving toward the University. He needed a computer, for he had to print out directions to Singer Auto Salvage in South Dakota.

--

"Saaaammm!!" The desperate and besieged voice echoed somewhere in the deep, dark pit. Sam drifted slowly downward, through the cables, chains, and flashes of light, determined to find its source. He tuned out his extreme fright, even though evil swarmed all around, for he had to find the person in trouble.

"Saaaammm!!" he heard again, this time he could see its source. Sam winced at the sight, for he had never seen anything so awful. His brother was strung up, impaled by hooks, and he was petrified. "Save me Sam!!"

"Hold on Dean!" Sam reached out, but he couldn't get close enough to touch his brother. He could only hover, for something was holding him back. Dean couldn't reach out for him, since his arms were outstretched and chained. He fought harder, stretching his limbs farther than he ever had to before, but he couldn't get close enough. Desperation overwhelmed him, for Sam couldn't bear to see Dean suffer like this. The closest he got was a loose grip on the end of his shirt, and through the cloth he could feel how fast Dean's heart was racing.

"Let him go." Sam's head snapped around, for that eerie voice was familiar. Despite the intrusion, he still wouldn't let go. "Please Jess," Sam pleaded, "I can save him."

Jessica, hung over him, her hand out as if she was preventing him from going any farther. "You can't save him, Sam. Let him go."

"Help us, please!" Sam pleaded, but the anger intensified in her eyes.

"Everyone around you dies, remember?"

Her words crushed him inside, for Dean deserved to live. He shouldn't have this fate. Why was Jessica separating them? "I can bring him back."

"LET GO SAM!"

Her voice thundered, shaking Sam to the core. "I can't."

Jessica released her hold on Sam and rose upward. He drifted down and was able to wrap his arms around Dean, whose body was intensely shaking from the agony. Sam wasn't sure how to get him out of this. "Dean."

"Sam," Dean choked out in a weak voice, before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Sam instantly felt the coldness in his body. "No, no, Dean!"

"You can't save him Sam!" He turned into time to see Jessica scream in a fit of rage, pointing her arm toward him. Sam yelled as he lost his grip of Dean and was violently pushed downward, throwing his arms in front of him, spiraling into the dark and never ending pit.

--

**a/n: I know, I'm evil. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: I worked on this in small chunks all week, for it was the only way I could get this down. My employer decided to make my week a living Hell, and family activities were outrageous, so I spent a lot of five minute intervals trying to get this done. I had to though, for the story is fresh in my mind. The whole back and forth structure of the story changes after this chapter, so enjoy! **

**--**

Sam's eyes filtered the gradually increasing light, his confused mind now aware that he wasn't falling anymore. He felt arms wrapped around him, and they were struggling to keep him up. "Come on Sam, work with me."

He mustered enough strength in his wobbly legs to help Bobby guide him over to a chair. The spinning in his head slowed down, enough for him to focus on the worn carpet at his feet. He was at Bobby's place. They had only been there for a few hours when, _oh God, Dean._

He doubled over, finding trouble catching his breath, feeling the beads of sweat dotting his forehead. His shaking hands moved to the back of his neck, and he discovered how bad he was burning up. He wasn't sure why. The uneasy feeling deep in his stomach was back too.

Bobby disappeared into the kitchen, and in no time came back with a glass of water, which Sam grasped in desperation. He chugged down the contents and welcomed the small relief. Bobby took back empty the glass and placed it down, waiting patiently for Sam to calm down. "You okay?"

Sam shook his head.

"You had another vision."

"I don't remember."

"Sam, you froze in the middle of the room, and were out of it for a while. I caught you right when you collapsed."

Sam's panting slowed a little, as the air worked its way back into his lungs. "Thanks."

"What do you remember?"

Sam went back in his mind, trying to recall what happened. It hit him like a flash. _"Please Jess, I can save him." "Everyone around you dies, remember?"_ Somehow, that other guy was there too, watching from a distance.He shook his head. "Nothing is coming to me."

Bobby's solemn stare showed his disturbance over that answer. "Sam, before Dean died, I made him a promise."

Sam's weary face met his, and just the mention of Dean turned his heart sick. "What sort of promise?"

"If your visions kept happening, we'd have to fix it."

Sam shuddered a bit more, trying to shake off his bad feeling. "No, we need to focus on getting Dean back."

"Sam, there's a reason Dean made me promise that. There's more to what's happening than visions and nightmares. It can wreck you eventually."

"Wreck me?" Sam's voice raised a few levels. "What exactly did you discuss with Dean?"

"You know him, he wouldn't let it go."

"This was the last thing he needed on his mind before he-" Sam bit his lip, for he couldn't say it.

"I know, trust me. Making that promise was the only way I could get him to focus on him."

"I've had visions before Bobby. I'll deal."

"It's not that simple, Sam. Dean sensed it too, which is why he made a stink about it in the first place. This time is different."

"How?"

"You haven't had visions since you were brought back. It's possible you were woken from a soul sleep. Either that, or you woke up a spirit from theirs."

Sam's heart sank. "Jess?"

Bobby answered with a slight nod. "Maybe."

Sam's confusion grew, for he wasn't in the right frame of mind to figure this out right now. The images, the trauma, it was all still too real. "Why now? I died over a year ago."

"I don't know."

"So what do we do?"

Bobby sighed, for none of this was getting more pleasant. "Get your brother buried. Then we start figuring it out."

Sam reached for the rough and tattered edges of the chair, using them to force himself up with unsteady arms, his body still quivering but determined. He shuffled his boots forward, heading for the backdoor, sensing Bobby's eyes burn through him.

"Take some time to rest Sam," Bobby said, watching Sam's struggle.

Sam turned around, his resolve unwavering, even if his body wasn't up to snuff. "No, I'm ready for this."

Bobby looked at him with caution, but Sam turned around, not needing his permission. He followed close behind when Sam resumed his slow stride into the yard.

--

Matthew watched in terror as an angry Jessica cast Sam into the pit below. He glanced down at the dead man below, and then over to Jessica.

"Let him go!" Jessica yelled at him.

Matthew held his hands in front of him in an attempt to soothe, somehow not bothered by the fact that he was gliding at a cautious pace toward the angry being. "Jessica, or is it Jess? Look carefully at me. I'm not Sam. I'm here to help."

Jessica's anger softened, but her confusion remained. Her head tilted to the side as she examined the object on his chest.

Matthew saw her fascination with the amulet. That was the first time she's noticed it so far. Maybe he found a way to get through. "Why must Sam let Dean go?"

"Sam can't save him."

Her eyes stayed fixed on his jewelry, and he wondered why the fascination, but he stopped himself from over-thinking, since she was responding to him. He pointed downward at the lifeless body below. "Can someone else save him?"

A scowl fell onto Jessica's face, and she backed away, taking in deep breaths of hysteria. She screamed and then burst into flames. Matthew jumped, snapping back into reality, finding himself clinging onto the sink in the men's room. He raced into the restaurant, where he had stopped for lunch.

"Is everything okay sir?" The waitress asked, holding his order, wondering why he was gone so long.

"I need it to go. I've got to get back on the road, fast."

--

Sam Winchester had certainly dug enough graves in his life. He told himself this was just another one, breaking into the fresh ground with relative ease, throwing all his might into removing the dirt quickly. The pit in his stomach was raw, and he wanted this done. He barely noticed the sounds of earth moving nearby, courtesy of Bobby's shovel. He was too focused on his task at hand.

Adrenaline was the only thing fueling his motivation, Sam was painfully aware of that. After all that had happened, he wasn't sure how much more he could take physically, mentally, and emotionally. He bit his lip and wished away the quick flash in his mind of a bloody Dean on the floor, his vacant stare confirming he had slipped away. He couldn't give in to the pain right now, not yet. Dean needed to be put to rest.

"I think we're good Sam." Sam glanced upward to Bobby's concerned eyes, realizing he was deep in a hole and would have dug to China if Bobby hadn't said something. Sam climbed out of the grave, taking Bobby's rough and dirty hand for leverage.

Both men were tattered, but both knew they were better off than the body at their feet. That was little comfort, for either would trade places right now. Sam took the head of the body wrapped in cloth, while Bobby took the feet. They lowered it into the ground, and each took a moment for personal vigil.

Sam didn't think he could cry anymore, but felt the wet streaming down his face anyway. He and Bobby had discussed a salt and burn, but they both knew they needed Dean around should they succeed. _Succeed. _Sam still desperately clung to hope that this wasn't the end, but most of him felt like a failure. He'd let his brother down, he didn't deliver on his promise. This was far worse than losing his dad, for he didn't owe him anything. He owed Dean his life, but what good was this life living with all the emptiness and pain? Everyone that meant anything was gone, and he was alone. All the more reason to never give up on Dean, for the current reality was far worse.

Bobby finished his moment of silence, for he was never good at mourning his losses. The pain ran too deep, and he had to go on. He picked up the shovel and threw a patch of dirt into the grave. Sam was too beside himself to follow suit, turning away and breaking into a couple deep sobs.

"Sam," Bobby said softly, "Go inside, I'll finish this."

Sam shook it off, realizing he couldn't keep letting Dean down. "No, I'll help." He took in a deep breath, telling himself this was just another grave. He could finish this. He picked up the shovel and began moving the dirt into the deep hole.

--

None of this made sense, but then again, that's why he was there. Matthew never been to South Dakota before, and nothing about this run down salvage yard revealed he'd been missing much. The "beware of dog" sign was a bit intimidating too, but the smell bothered him the most. The searing sun burned the remains of rotting oil and gas off the collection of rusted steel and rubber, leaving no doubt this was where cars faced their bitter end. He wondered what this automotive graveyard said about the occupant.

He was told to look for the old Chevelle, otherwise Bobby Singer wasn't there. When he spotted the said beat up vehicle in the driveway, parked near the shabby farmhouse, he wasn't sure whether to be excited or frightened. A tall figure deep in the yard caught his eye. "Excuse me!" Matthew shouted, but the person turned away and disappeared behind a stack of cars. _Huh, probably didn't hear me. _

"Can I help you?" A voice said off to his side.

Matthew turned to look at the older man with the scruffy beard, and well worn ball cap. "I'm looking for Bobby Singer."

"What's your name son?"

"Matthew Walker. I was told to find him by someone I met in Lawrence, Kansas."

Bobby looked past Matthew, examining the Kansas license plates and the rental car sticker. "You need some parts?"

"No, it involves another matter. Something that requires a specialist."

Bobby accepted his name got around, but something about this kid seemed different. On the level. He had a hunch. "You from Palo Alto?"

Matthew's jaw fell agape and his face went blank. "Yeah, how did you…? Did Missouri call you, tell you I'm coming?"

"Missouri Mosely?" Bobby smiled. "I haven't heard from her in ages."

Matthew placed his hands firmly on his hips, letting out a short huff of impatience. "Look, Mr. Singer, assuming you're him, I'm a little short on patience right now. I haven't been home in weeks, which stopped being cozy a couple months ago, and I can't go into a bathroom now without seeing weird shit that's pushing me into deep dark recesses of Hell all while making no freaking sense. Can you help, or do I need to drop the rental off in Sioux Falls and go home to a pretty woman who likes choking me and burning up on my ceiling?"

Bobby smiled. "Well, wasn't that awkward."

"You think?"

He turned toward the house. "Call me Bobby. Come on in, and we'll compare notes."

"I've got more than a few notes."

"I bet you do." Bobby held the screen door open for him, letting him follow inside. "We'll have a beer, and you can tell me your story. I've got all damn day."

"Thanks, but I don't-" Matthew sensed by Bobby's insistent glare that the offer was more than being nice. "A beer would be great."

Matthew stood in complete awe in the center of the living room while Bobby disappeared into the kitchen. He wandered over to the stack of books in the corner, admiring the worn and dusty titles covering different aspects of the occult. Yep, he'd definitely come to the right place. He spotted a strange book and looked closer, only to find a cookbook ended up in the middle of that mess. As he turned around, his eyes lit up in amazement over the giant symbol on the ceiling in the next room.

Bobby came back and handed him the beer. "The key of Solomon." He watched Matthew carefully, noticing him swallow the beer without adverse affects. His apprehension lightened a little.

"I'm not sure I want to know what that's all about."

"Nope, you don't." Bobby drank his beer, watching this wide-eyed kid take in everything. "So talk. Don't worry, nothing's gonna sound too crazy."

Matthew turned around and took a nearby chair. "It started a couple of months ago. I found out the hard way that someone died from a fire in my apartment, because she started appearing on the ceiling, before bursting into flames."

Bobby gave him all signs he was still listening.

"I found out her name was Jessica Moore, and she lived there with Sam Winchester. Whenever she appeared, she kept asking for Sam, but when I tried to find him, I found out he'd recently died. Missouri said you knew the Winchesters."

"They were like family to me, both the boys, and their dad too."

"Were? So they're all dead?"

Bobby found a way to avoid answering the question. "She only mention Sam?"

"No, she's mentioned Dean too. She yelled his name a few times while attacking me."

"Attack?" Bobby's interest jumped.

"She choked me, saying 'let him go'."

Bobby attention to the story grew. "Did she think you were Sam?"

"At first. But this last time, it was different. It actually happened on the way here. I could get through to her."

"How so?"

"I asked her a question, and she answered. It was the strangest thing."

Bobby got up, heading toward the stack of books. He pushed ten aside in a stack, and then opened one, flipping through the yellowed pages. He found what he was looking for a third of the way in, his eyebrows raising in fascination. "I'll be."

"So what I told you means something?"

"Describe everything you remember, in detail."

"It's not something I can easily forget. Dean was strung up in chains, in a dark place with lightening flashing, and the feeling of evil all around. Sam was trying to get to him, but Jessica held him back. He tried to talk to her, but she got very angry. Dean died in his arms, and then Jessica threw him with her mind into the pit below. I could only sit there and watch. But then-"

"Go on."

"Then she came to me, and was mesmerized by this." He held out the amulet on his neck. "She said Sam can't save him. I asked her who could, and she burst into flames."

Bobby placed the open book on the desk, and headed within a few steps of the kitchen. "Any of this sound familiar? An honest answer is required this time."

The tall man, the one Matthew saw earlier, entered the same room but maintained a distance, nodding with his head hung in shame.

"They aren't visions. You two are having simultaneous reality shifts. You know what that connection means? We have a doorway."

That set off a furrowed brow in the other man. "If that's true then-"

Bobby pointed toward Matthew. "You need to talk with him."

He worked his way over, towering over Matthew's average frame. Matthew examined the man closer and went pale. "No way, you're-"

"Hi Matthew. I'm Sam Winchester."

--

**a/n: I'm on vacation next week, so hopefully the long car rides will result in plenty of writing time. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: I'm back from vacation, and ready to go on with this. I should have more time now to keep going. I hope. Anyway, I was so busy the last few weeks I didn't even get to do review replies. To those of you that sent your reviews and encouraging comments, thank you so much, and I promise I'll get back to replies this chapter. The structure of the chapters are different now, so I hope you like this one. **

**--**

"You're alive!" Matthew fought to find something appropriate to say. Even though Missouri said she didn't think he was dead, Matthew wasn't sure he believed it. "I…I don't know whether to hug you, or smack you for putting me through all this trouble."

"Um," Sam uttered.

"How are you here? How…How did you escape the explosion in Colorado?"

Sam's eyes widened, surprised to hear he knew about that. "I see you've been doing your homework. We got out before it happened."

"We? So Dean's alive too?"

Sam and Bobby shared a solemn glance. "Not exactly."

Matthew looked at them both, and it all clicked. "Oh, that must be it, the bad thing that happened. Did Dean die early yesterday?"

"Yeah, how did you know that?" Sam was torn between sorrow and shock, wondering what this guy knew.

"Missouri told me about a disturbance happening yesterday, one that was destined to be corrected. She acted like someone close to her died."

"Missouri?" Sam asked, confused. "Are you talking about Missouri Mosely?"

"It seems Matthew here has been spending some time in Kansas," Bobby clarified. "What did she mean exactly, destined to be corrected?"

"I think it has something to do with 'unfinished business'."

Bobby still didn't understand. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea."

"Wait, I think I do." Sam said. "When dad made the deal, Dean was supposed to die. Maybe Dean's death was correcting some sort of spiritual rift."

Bobby and Matthew looked at him as if he was insane.

Sam sheepishly shrugged. "Or something."

"You're forgetting something," Bobby said. "He wasn't the only one to come back from the dead. It doesn't add up."

"Wait, people can come back from the dead?" Matthew swung around, grabbing his forehead in disbelief. "Can this get any weirder?"

"Forget all of that," Bobby said, trying to work through the mass confusion. "How in the world did you both get connected? Living in the same apartment doesn't do it alone."

"I might know." Matthew removed the amulet from his neck and handed it to Sam.

Sam examined the charm carefully, and came to the revelation it was familiar. He went over to the desk, and pulled his dad's journal out. After sifting through some older photographs, he pulled out the one that had his answer. A sad smile drew on his face after taking a long gaze at the photo. "Angels are watching over us."

Both Bobby and Matthew looked at him confused, and Sam handed the photo to Bobby, taking in a deep breath to collect himself. Bobby's eyes popped we he saw the picture. "The amulets look the same."

"They are the same, or at least Missouri said so. I bought this at a flea market during a trip to Lawrence, just before this all started."

Bobby and Sam were astonished. "That's some pretty strange odds," Bobby said.

"So now what?" Matthew had gotten over the coincidence weirdness a while ago. He was ready for answers.

Bobby and Sam both shrugged. "We're dropping your rental off in Sioux Falls," Bobby said.

"Why are we doing that?" Matthew asked. Sam's confused stare confirmed he wanted to know too.

"So we can all ride together to Palo Alto. Sam's driving."

--

Matthew examined his surroundings, noticing the rough and tumble look while riding in the passenger seat. He'd never been in a classic car before, but wasn't sure he was all that impressed. Bobby was in the back seat, sound asleep, and Sam's eyes were firmly fixed on the road, not making conversation.

"It's like I'm riding in a boat." Matthew said. "How old is it?"

"She," Sam corrected.

"She."

"A '67. My dad gave her to Dean."

"So now she's yours? Wouldn't a Prius be a bit more economical, with traveling across the country and all? You'd stand out a bit less too."

"Careful, she knows you're talking about her. She might go all Christine on your ass."

Matthew scoffed, but then cowered when Sam's steely-eyed glare let him know he was dead serious. He brushed his hand on the dashboard. "Good girl." He looked at the car's interior further. "You don't even have a jack for the iPod. AM/FM cassette? Where are the tapes?"

"In the trunk."

"Why?"

"Trust me, it's not your kind of music."

Matthew was suspicious by that comment. "I'm guessing not your type either. Dean's right?"

Sam didn't answer.

"From what little I know about Dean, I'm willing to bet he was into all that head banger stuff, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, that sort of thing. Doesn't seem like your sort of thing."

"If you're so smart, what is my sort of thing?"

"I dunno. ColdPlay, Radiohead, that 'wallow in your misery' sort of crap."

Sam smiled. He didn't have an answer for that. He abandoned his musical tastes two years ago.

"So what was Dean like?"

Sam shrugged. "He was just an average guy."

"Average guy? What you both do is anything but average. Was he a loose cannon, or pretty level headed about the whole chasing ghosts thing?"

"Chasing ghosts thing? Is that what you think we do?"

"You aren't answering the question."

Sam paused, trying to find a place to start. "Dean was a hero. Saved my ass more times than I can remember."

Matthew smiled. "I don't have a brother or sister, but I imagine if I did, I'd do anything to protect them."

"Dean was always watching out for me, ever since we were kids."

"You and Dean spent a lot of time underground as kids, didn't you?"

Despite Matthew's nosiness, Sam was somewhat amused by his curiosity. He really did do his research. He remembered Dean being just as amused with Ron back in Milwaukee and now understood why. "How much digging did you actually do?"

"A lot. I spent more time in Kansas than I wanted to. I learned a lot about your dad and the fire that killed your mom."

Sam slightly shook his head, for this guy was direct too. "We got by. We learned how to survive. As hunters, we went up against all sorts of things on a daily basis."

"Is that what you guys call yourselves, hunters?"

"Yeah."

"That sounds so boring. Why not 'Ghostbusters' or 'Supernatural Slayers' or something like that?"

Sam didn't have an answer for that, and only smiled in response.

"What did you and Dean hunt the most?"

Sam's face went flat. "We've had our fair share of run-ins with demons."

Matthew picked up on Sam's saddened tone. "Is that what killed Dean?"

Sam sadly nodded.

"How'd it happen?"

"It's complicated."

"We have 1500 miles. The story can't take that long."

"Okay," Sam took in a deep breath. Now the curiosity wasn't fun anymore. "I was killed last year. Dean sold his soul to get me back, and he was given a year. The deal came due."

Matthew pressed his hung open jaw back shut. "Wow. He gave his own life so his brother could live? What a selfless act."

"No, it was selfish," Sam replied, snarling in bitterness. "When he hovered at death, our dad sold his soul for him. It tore him apart, the guilt over living and pain from the loss. Now he's gone and done the same to me."

Matthew understood for some strange reason. "If Dean was supposed to die though, why is all of this still happening? A psychic I visited in California said you had great power. Does that mean anything?"

"No," Sam lied.

"I know all this, you and me being connected, means something. I've been raised my entire life to believe everything happens for a reason. Some call it miracles or signs, but I've usually called it God's plan. We are all chosen for some purpose, although I would have never guessed this."

"I used to believe in God," Sam confessed. "Now, I'm not so sure. I've seen too many horrible things. God isn't necessarily the one behind the master plan."

"Well, something has control. I may not understand my purpose, but it's real. Come on, what are the odds that I'd get your mother's amulet and live in your old apartment?"

"Have you ever considered that we might be dealing with coincidence here?" Sam felt hypocritical asking that, since he stopped believing in coincidence long ago.

"If you asked me that three months ago, I'd say yes. I've seen too much since then where my mind has changed."

"You know Matthew, many times people are chosen just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You believe that?"

"Bobby and I didn't ask for this life, but it happened. Things often happen that we can't control."

"No, you can't. But you still fight it anyway. Maybe all your misfortunes might exist for something greater."

Sam pressed his lips together. "Trust me, that's the only thought that keeps us going."

"You two are killin' me back here with all this pre-destiny stuff," Bobby said. "Why don't you two talk about pledge week at Stanford or something like that?"

"He's got a good point," Matthew said. "Have you thought about what it'll be like going back to Stanford after everything that has happened?"

Sam gripped onto the wheel, fixing his gaze straight forward on the road. "No, I'm sure it'll be fine."

--

"Why Sam?"

He glanced upward to see Jessica on the ceiling, hair splayed, and a stone dead look in her eyes. He gasped in fright.

"Sam…"

"Noooo!" He yelled, just a split second before she was engulfed in a fireball.

"Sam, wake up, we're here." He lifted his head up after feeling the nudge from Matthew, focusing on the very familiar neighborhood.

Bobby knew that startled look, but noticed Matthew was unscathed. "What's wrong with you?"

"Strange dream, that's all."

Matthew and Bobby were unconvinced, giving him a long stare to make sure everything was okay.

"I'm fine, okay? It wasn't a vision." Sam looked upward at the second floor apartment, where his life took that inevitable turn. "They did a great job on the rebuild. It looks exactly as it did before."

"You ready for this?" Bobby asked. Sam and Matthew both nodded, and they all got out of the car. As the three men climbed up the long set of stairs, Sam noticed the smooth feel of the railing. Before it was rutted and worn. He wondered if that was the only good to come from the fire. They reached the top and Matthew unlocked the door, unveiling the trademark creak when it opened.

"That could never be fixed," Matthew explained. "Now I think I know why."

"Matthew?" Sheila emerged from the other room, a frantic look on her face, and wearing a thick sweater. "How'd you get in?"

"Uh, a key. Why is it so cold in here?"

"There's been nothing for weeks, and then all of a sudden today, everything. It got really cold, even though its ninety degrees out. I opened the windows, and they shut on their own. That's when I noticed I couldn't get out. Papers are blowing everywhere, the lights keep flickering, and scratching noises are coming from the floor."

"I can feel something," Sam said, nervously swallowing as he moved further into the apartment.

"No way," Sheila said. "Is that-?"

"Sheila, this is Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer."

"So you haven't had any disturbances until today?" Bobby asked, taking a careful look around.

"All fine until a few hours ago."

Matthew went to the door, and found he couldn't open it. "Why are we trapped in here?"

"She doesn't want anyone leaving," Bobby answered. "Ghosts can be so damned temperamental."

Sam cautiously stepped forward, finding himself in the center of the bedroom. He looked all around, catching a glimpse of the ceiling, but quickly turning way. He couldn't bear to see it again. Terror was spiking inside him, for whatever was in there, he felt it, and it was angry.

Matthew came in behind him, noticing Sam's unease. "Are you getting anything?" Then his eyes widened in fright. "Sam, behind you," he said with an even tone in his voice.

Sam turned around, and he too got the same sense of alarm. "Jess," he said softly.

Jessica wore a slight smile, and sauntered her way closer. "I knew you were coming Sam. It's about time you got here."

A few tears welled in Sam's eyes, for seeing her again, the way she was before-, he was overwhelmed. "Why aren't you at peace Jess?"

Her smile turned to an angry scowl. "You don't remember? You're the one who woke me. You're the one that said we would be together forever, and then you left!"

"Please, believe me, I don't remember anything."

"Try harder Sam."

All of a sudden, little flashes came to him. Jessica was dressed in white, in a suspended sleep, in a place filled with soft white light. Another flash had him touching her, and her eyes flying open. In the next part he took her hand and helped her up, both fixed lovingly on each other's gaze.

"I was at peace, waiting for you to come to me. You did, and Dean took you away."

"I'm sorry Jess. I didn't know. I didn't know Dean was going to make a deal."

"Dean must suffer for what he did." She pointed toward the corner, revealing a new figure there.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, seeing his brother hanging from chains. He was in agony, and didn't see him. Sam wanted to run and help, but couldn't move. "Please Jess, help him. Do what you want with me, but just help Dean come back."

She produced a slow, crooked smile. "Oh, don't worry, you're never leaving me again."

Sam stared at her perplexed, anxious over what she exactly meant. Then he heard Dean yell his name. He turned back toward his suffering brother.

"Sam, watch out!" Matthew yelled.

It was too late though, for Sam felt the searing pain in his back, that familiar anguish from being stabbed. He felt all his breath leave him, and reality slowly slip away.

Jessica stood behind him, twisting the knife in further, sneering as Sam fell to his knees and collapsed face first on the floor.

"Jessica! What are you doing?" Matthew asked, coming over to Sam's side. He didn't see any signs of life, and tried to make sense of what was happening. "Why?"

"I don't need you anymore," she said, towering over him, then raising her arm and propelling him backward. Matthew slammed full force into the wall across the room, and as he slid downward, everything went black.

--

**a/n: Approve, don't approve? A quick comment is all it takes. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: Warning, a Winchester was harmed in the making of this chapter. It all serves it's purpose though, I assure you! Thanks again for all your comments.**

**--**

Two strong taps on the cheek got his attention, but the muffled voice was still a mystery, teasing his hazy mind. He thought it said "work with me", but he wasn't sure what he needed to work toward. After a few seconds, the voice became comprehensible. "Matthew, are you with me?"

Matthew's head rolled back and forth, alternating between two the hard surfaces of wall and floorboard. "Huh?" He found he was partially slumped against the same wall he used for leverage earlier. His bleary eyes focused on the crumpled form nearby, prone and motionless. Eventually it came into clear view. "Is Sam okay?"

"He's not back yet. You stirred first."

The events that unfolded flashed vividly in his mind. What Sam experienced was more intense than anything in their shared visions, or shifts, whatever they were called. "Is he dead?"

"Why are you asking that? Did something happen?"

Matthew felt two hands grab him by the shirt and pull him up. His legs were able to offer assistance, and once he was upright he took a few steps forward, crouching down to check out Sam. His breath was slow and his color pale, but there were signs of life. He didn't feel much relief though, for Sam's glassy eyes were open and fixed to the side. Matthew saw that look just before his uncle died, unnerving him.

"Some answers would be great." Bobby said, not very tolerant of Matthew's confused state.

"We saw Jessica. She was right here." He pointed behind him then looked around the room, noticing not a thing was out of place. Any disturbances happened in the other realm. "She was mean, angry, and confronted Sam. She said there was no way he would leave her again, and after distracting him stabbed him in the back. He fell to the floor, and I swear he was dead."

"What distracted him?"

"A vision of Dean in Hell."

"Crap." Bobby looked down and ran his hand along his chin, going into a pensive state. Matthew could tell his story troubled him. "How'd you get back?"

"I don't know, she threw me against the wall and I passed out. She said she didn't need me anymore."

"Did you think you were dead?"

Matthew's befuddled reaction over such a strange question caused him to stammer, but he found the answer. "Not really."

Bobby sighed, again hinting that none of this was good. "It could be Sam's mind believes he's dead or dying, especially if it mirrored his death before."

"That's how Sam died?" Matthew felt a sharp pain hit his gut. He didn't know why his stomach wasn't made of iron by now, with all these shocks to his system. Maybe because the stabbing was still vivid in his mind, and it was tragic. "How awful."

Bobby paced around a bit. "It doesn't add up. Spirits don't get that angry so quickly. It usually takes years. We're dealing with an unknown here."

"Matthew?" Sheila entered the room, gasping when she spotted the body in the middle of the floor. "My God, what happened to him?"

"We're still working on that," Matthew replied, guessing from Bobby's changing facial expressions that his mind was going a mile a minute.

Sheila watched Bobby too, acting nervous over his behavior. She broke away from her stare. "Uh, it's warming up in here and the door and windows can be opened now."

"That means she's gone, right?" Matthew asked Bobby.

"Yeah, for now, but she's got Sam with her. The fact that you're here means the link between you and Sam was broken."

"I know I still have a link with Jessica. I feel her. She's really suffering."

Bobby's eyebrows raised. "That might be all we need. Come on, I know someone that can help."

"Where are we going?"

"Cross town."

"You know someone here?"

Bobby scoffed. "Palo Alto is a supernatural hotspot, boy. Has been for years. I've worked my share of jobs in this town." Bobby took a few steps forward, noticing he wasn't being followed. Bobby turned around, seeing Matthew's incredulous stare.

"So we just leave him on the floor?" Matthew asked.

Bobby looked down at Sam. "He ain't feeling nothin'."

Matthew scolded Bobby with a dissatisfied look.

"Fine." Bobby and Matthew lifted Sam onto the bed, making him as comfortable as possible.

--

Dean ran his tongue over his dry, cracked lips, which didn't help at all considering his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. The thirst crippled him, but he didn't think demons were the accommodating type. "I'm not going to die of thrist!" Dean shouted, certain that he wasn't impressing whatever demon had him in this latest situation.

Unbearable and searing heat sapped what little strength he had, but at least his clouded mind from fatigue reduced the impact of the mental torture. Wherever he was now was meant to be terrifying, and far worse than being dangled in the matrix of cables and chains. He was abandoned in total darkness, unable to see even a flicker of light, only hearing the echoes of horrifying groans from other tortured souls. The jagged edges of the stone wall he was chained to dug into his back and legs, and no matter how he moved, he couldn't escape the discomfort.

"The chamber of darkness." The soft voice came from directly ahead, but he couldn't see even a silhouette.

Dean felt his dry throat burn as he tried to swallow, needing moisture to choke out a response. Instead, he could only muster faint sounds from his tight windpipe. "I thought one stayed in a chamber of Hell for every thousand years," Dean winced through the pain, remembering reading that in one of Bobby's books.

"You're a celebrity. You get the whirlwind tour."

Dean couldn't help but think the voice was familiar. "Do I know you?"

"You took him away from me, but I got him back."

"Excuse me?"

Suddenly, a fireball exploded in the corner. Dean closed his eyes, for the bright light burned into his overly sensitive retinas. He squinted as the flames grew closer and hotter, screaming when they danced just a few inches from his face. He pulled at his chains, the sharp wall digging further into his back, and the shackles ripping deeper into his already raw flesh. "No!!" He yelled feeling the full impact of the heat, struggling to turn away.

The heat backed off, and Dean turned to see the flames recede back. A figure emerged from the fire, moving close to him, the bouncing light giving him a view of her face. "Jess?"

"Look into the fire."

Dean's bloodshot and dry eyes felt pain from the bursts of light, but something appeared in the center, forcing him to fight his discomfort. "Sam?"

Sam was stretched on a bed, eyes open but distant, his vacant glare off to the side. His jaw was barely cracked, his breathing was labored, and the color gradually drained from his flushed cheeks. It was the exact look Sam had just before he slipped away in his arms. The sight tore his insides apart, forcing him to turn away. "It's not real."

"He's stuck, reliving that horrible moment over and over again in his mind. He's unable to heal, but unable to die."

For whatever reason, every part of Dean knew she was telling the truth. His racing pulse pounded hard through every part of his aching body while his anxiety spiked, forcing him to fight back the overwhelming sense of panic exploding inside. "Come on Sammy. Fight it."

"He can't hear you." Jess turned away, taking a long, satisfied look at the lingering Sam.

Dean struggled against his bonds, but they were too tight, again inducing the stabbing pain from hard spikes. He couldn't understand why Jess was doing this. He stared as she watched Sam with delight, and it all became clear, unsettling him in the process. "You aren't Jess."

"Sure I am."

Dean looked at the face again, and saw she was back to normal. "You aren't a demon either. I know what they look like. Who are you?"

"You can't save him."

"Jess!" Dean yelled, hoping to get through. "I know you're in there. You've got to help Sam."

Jess looked at him confused, and then smiled, revealing her other face.

"Let her go, you bitch!"

"Remember when Sam hung between life and death, desperately clinging onto life before the light went out? Remember the heartache when you lost him? Here you get to relieve that over and over."

Dean grumbled, clenching his teeth, but resisting the urge to fight and cause more pain. If demons knew anything, it was how to prey on weakness. He had to remain calm. He had to fight the spiking fear, for he had to trust Sam. He could pull himself out of this, or Bobby could help. He wasn't alone.

"Want to call me a bitch again?"

Dean was about to, but backed off.

"There's still some 'unfinished business'. When I'm done, your brother won't be going anywhere."

"What does that mean?"

She disappeared, and the flames flashed brighter, just before everything went dark again.

Dean's head fell backward onto the warm and damp wall, the sharp rock underneath at least providing support for his shaking neck. "Bitch."

--

"This guy?" Matthew knew where they were going the second they pulled into the neighborhood.

"Yeah, you know him?" Bobby asked. He avoided pressing too hard on the Impala's gas pedal, but he knew one slight touch and she would take off at an insane speed. He smiled, for Dean really knew how to take care of the old girl. Too bad her handling didn't compare to what his Chevelle could do. It was like driving a parade float.

"I saw him once already, a month or so ago," Matthew answered. "He was the third psychic I tried. I dismissed him as a quack like all the others."

Bobby chuckled. "Most psychics are fake. This guy's for real though. Bet you feel stupid."

"That doesn't begin to describe how I feel right now."

Bobby smiled and parked the Impala right in front. He enjoyed the perfect hum of the engine before turning it off. He imagined that the spirit of Dean was weaved in every part. They got out and headed up the front walkway.

"Domino is different from the other psychics. He really knows his evil spirits," Bobby said.

"Domino? That must be where 'Dom' came from."

"Yeah, only those that know him well can call him that." Bobby knocked on the door, and the white haired man answered.

"If you're such a great psychic, you should have had the door open for us before I knocked."

"I knew it was you. There was still hope of pretending I wasn't home."

Bobby let out a slight laugh. "Great seeing you Domino."

"Sure, only visit when you've got some real problems."

They entered the small house, finding the living room in just a few steps. Dom took the chair in corner, leaving Bobby to take the couch, and Matthew another chair. Dom's spooky eyes fixed a long gaze at Matthew, making him squirm in the process. "You went through the portal."

"Duh," Matthew said.

"Nasty spirit, wasn't she? A little more than you and Sam could handle?"

"I don't think you need me to answer that," Matthew replied, still uncomfortable over this man reading him like a book. "Why is Jess so angry?"

Dom smiled, and took another look gaze. "Bobby, you notice that thing on his neck, right?"

Bobby's interest sparked over Domino's curiosity about the trinket. Sure, it played a role, but what more could be involved? "We know it was Mary Winchester's."

"It's Assyrian."

Bobby's face went blank. "Aw shit. You don't mean-?"

Dom nodded.

Matthew's eyes danced back and forth, watching the mind games between them. "Care to fill in the victim here?"

Bobby chose to explain. "That amulet of yours didn't just summon Jessica. It seems you also tapped into an Ekimmu."

Matthew's head fell into his hand. "What is it this time?"

"In Mesopotamian mythology, it's a ghost that was denied entrance into the underworld, and extremely vengeful toward the living. In other words, you've got the Cadillac of all angry spirits after you." Bobby didn't want to sugar coat this for him, but he knew his words still didn't fully paint the horrible picture involved here.

Matthew gulped. "How did one end up in my apartment? Was it just floating around and decided to come in through the open door?"

Bobby looked at Dom. "He's got a point, how did it get there?"

"I'm not sure how, but if Jessica's soul was hanging around, in limbo and lost, and if her light was bright enough, she became attractive enough to the dark entity. Leaking the right amount of soul energy could have split her aura."

Matthew grabbed his head. "Care to clarify for those of us who never bought 'Out on A Limb'?"

"If she had even a small amount of weakness, and did have an encounter with an Ekimmu, then she could be controlled, forced to do evil things."

The pieces didn't fit in Bobby's mind, at least from what he knew about this legend. It was so ancient, so Old Testament, that he wondered how one could still exist. Then he reminded himself that in the supernatural world, anything is possible. "Don't these things usually prey on living beings though? Possessing a dead spirit is a bit of a stretch."

"You've got a doorway to other realities, right?" Dom replied. "Put one of these psychic vampires in a multi-dimensional portal and any reign of terror is possible."

"Psychic vampires?" Matthew asked, sliding both his flattened palms down his cheeks. "Why is none of this weird to me anymore? So what do we do to save Jessica, get Sam back and get rid of this thing?"

Bobby and Dom both dropped their heads. "Ekimmu's can't be eradicated through exorcism, and are almost impossible to get rid of. Trust me, I'd rather this be a demon," Bobby replied.

"You know," Dom said, "they died usually in some horrible, violent way. I wonder if anything else happened in that building besides the fire. We find out where it came from, we might be able to know how to get rid of it."

Bobby knew finding the origin would be a challenge. "This thing could go back to biblical times. I know there ain't that much history available for California."

Dom shook his head. "It can't come from the underworld, and it has to happen within proximity. Checking wouldn't hurt. History at least goes back to Spanish times."

Bobby couldn't argue, and pulled the keys out of his pocket, handing them to Matthew. "Take the Impala, go to the library and see what you can find about the history of that building."

"What are you doing?"

"Domino here has a huge collection of books in the back. We need to know more about that amulet. I've got to read up on my Mesopotamian lore."

Matthew gazed at the keys in his hands. "You actually trust me to drive that thing? It handles like a shopping cart."

"Don't crash it, or I'll kill you," Bobby said.

Matthew grasped onto the keys and walked toward the front entrance. "I think I'd rather take my chances with the angry spirit."

"Go!" Bobby ordered, watching Matthew leave.

Bobby and Dom looked at each other, sharing their apprehension. "We're screwed, aren't we?" Bobby asked.

"Pretty much," Dom answered. Both went into the back to begin their research.

--

"Come on Sam! I'm getting pissed off here!" Dean had been pleading for a while now. He tried asking nicely, so he thought ordering would work this time. Of course the thought occurred to him that Sam wasn't able to hear him. He envisioned that a circle of demons were out there in the dark, chuckling with glee over his pleas to his brother. He didn't care. "Sam, use some of that freak psychic shit to get us out of this."

"Holy Hell, what is this place?"

Dean's heart jumped over the voice. He didn't expect any kind of answer, and the response didn't sound like a demon. It was lacking arrogance. "You've got that right," Dean replied with gruff voice.

"Who's there?" The confused voice asked.

Dean wasn't sure what was happening, but he had nothing to lose by talking to him. "Is this a trick?"

"Why is it so hot and dark?"

"You're kidding me, right? Can you at least tell me your name?"

"I'm Matthew."

Dean wondered what sort of demon game this was. Playing confused morons wasn't their style. "I'm Dean."

Dean heard the surprised gasp. "Dean Winchester?"

"This is getting too strange, even for me," Dean muttered in a lower voice. "Okay, I'll play. Yes, I'm he. How did you get here?"

"I don't know. I was in the library researching, went home to get something in the bedroom and I'm here."

Dean scoffed. "Boy, did you end up in the wrong place."

"You sound rough. Are you in pain?"

"Nope, a dominatrix is letting me know I've been a bad boy."

Dean heard silence. He guessed that while Matthew knew who he was, he hadn't heard about his strange sense of humor.

"I'm supposed to help you Dean. Maybe save you."

"How can you do that?"

"I don't know."

_Great, an ambiguous rescuer. _Dean surmised this was a demon having fun with him, building up hope only to crush him. It had to be a demon, for this guy sounded too much like a moron to be real. "Very funny, give it up."

"Dean, listen to me. I've been working with Sam and Bobby. I live in Sam and Jessica's old apartment, and she began appearing. I keep getting pulled into some spiritual portal."

Dean couldn't explain the feeling, but something about this guy felt honest. If this was a trick, then he'd let the demons have their fun. "That's a doorway Matthew. They're impossible to find."

"I'm connected somehow, and my apartment is the location."

Dean noticed the urgency in his voice that time. "Matthew, you can't keep shifting like this. Something dark is feeding off your soul each time this happens. It'll kill you, and condemn your spirit forever. It's got Jessica."

"Yes, an Ekimmu."

Dean wished he could see this guy's face, see if he was actually serious or if he was as stupid as he seemed. "I'm not in the mood for guessing games."

"A psychic vampire."

Dean had heard of those. "If that's true, you're screwed."

"Tell me about it."

"Matthew, you have to wake up, and go back. If a demon finds this portal, you're done for. You don't need to be stuck in Hell with me."

"Hell?" Dean heard the terrified edge in his voice. "This is really Hell?"

"Go away Matthew. Save Sam and Jessica."

"What about you?"

"Forget about me. I can't be saved."

"Yes…yes you can. That's why all this is happening to me. You see, I was chosen-"

"Just go!" Dean's orders rang through the surrounding space, bouncing off the towering walls in a chilling tone. Dean waited, and only heard the wails of the dead souls. Matthew was gone.

Dean thought through all that he just heard. Was that for real? Could it be that they found a way to save him? If that was true, how were they going to get around the psychic vampire? If it did have Jessica and Sam, and could move so easily through all the points in the portal, then…

All of a sudden it hit him. "Matthew, come back! I know how to get rid of your evil spirit! You can't fight it, or it'll kill you all!"

Matthew wasn't there, causing Dean to yell louder in frustration. He pulled on his chains again, this time feeling the warm blood draining down his arms from where the shackles cut into him. He didn't care, and pulled harder, yelping over his flesh being sliced by the rock underneath him. "Matthew! Sam!" He yelled for a while, his alarm echoing through the open chamber, but no one answered.


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: This was the hardest chapter yet to write! Probably because I was writing it in five minute intervals again all week. Tonight, I finished it on the commericals during Olympics coverage. That was hard too, for it was a pretty exciting night.**

**Anyway, the plot is unfolding in full force now. Only a few more chapters, and the story should be told. This chapter is a setup for something big to come. Hope you like!**

**--**

"Sam!!"

It all felt surreal, much like the first time, and he welcomed the transition. His previous death was now vivid in his mind, how he disconnected with the rest of his world, Dean's cries fading fast in the background, ready to leave everything behind and follow his new path. He passed from world of pain and sorrow into a beautiful place. Someplace where he belonged, where he wouldn't be different, and where Jess would be there with him. He was ready to have that life with her, the one they were tragically denied among the living. Yellow eyes couldn't stop that here.

It occurred to Sam after a while though that serenity was hovering, but slow in coming. It came so fast before. All he did was walk through the fog and into the white light where Jess was sleeping, ready to be awakened. Now, he was only surrounded by white emptiness. He stared at the haze far in the distance, unable to cross the line.

"Jess? Where are you?"

No answer, no welcome sight this time of her exquisite face. He heard his name echo again, but knew from the male voice it wasn't Jessica. He didn't want to answer, or let go of the peace that was within his grasp. Dean gave up eternal happiness for reality after the Djinn got him, and it ate at him for a while. Sam didn't want to make a similar choice. He was too tired, and ready to surrender.

The voice echoed again. Sam closed his eyes, and fought all urges to respond. _Let me go Dean._ The words stung at him, for now it all made sense. _Let him go._ Could it be Jess told him that for this exact moment? All he had to do was let Dean go and he could move on. He could live in eternity with Jess, have the afterlife he was denied the first time. Dean couldn't ruin it by bringing him back for no other reason than he couldn't live alone.

Sam ignored his brother's cries, stepping closer toward the fog. Dean's fate was sealed, and now he wanted to seal his. He waited with patience but also anxiousness, hoping his silent action would finally let him move on.

"It's finally time for rest Sam."

He turned around, spotting a saintly Jessica in white, looking lovelier than he ever recalled. Tears welled up in his eyes when she moved closer and reached out, resting her hand tenderly on his shoulder. It had been so long since he felt that gentle touch, the comfort she gave him. She was safe. She was the only person ever to make him feel that way.

She grasped his hand, turning to glance at the cloudy horizon ahead, before moving her eyes back to Sam. She took a few steps forward, pulling him along, heading in the direction of the unknown. Sam inhaled a deep breath of apprehension, taking one last pause to assure he was ready for this, and with one glance into her trusting eyes followed her lead.

--

"What's wrong with him?" Bobby arrived in response to the call he got, owing thanks to Domino giving him a lift. He didn't need to deal with Sheila's frantic voice over the phone.

Matthew was stretched on the couch, his right forearm pressing on his sweaty forehead and his body convulsing in shivers.

"He had another episode while you were gone," Sheila said. "Is he supposed to be having this many at once?"

"I spoke to Dean in Hell." Matthew revealed in between heavy breaths.

Bobby's eyes danced between them both, not exactly sure who was sounding crazier. He decided Matthew had the better story. "You spoke with Dean? How?"

"You're the guy with all the answers. You tell me. Somehow, this doorway opens for whoever is connected with it, no matter where they are."

"Are you sure it was Dean?"

Matthew groaned while rolling over on the couch, facing Bobby. "He was in terrible pain, thirsty from languishing in chains in extreme heat, yet somehow joked about a dominatrix."

Bobby cracked an uneasy smile. "That sounds like him. What happened when he saw you?"

"He didn't. It was completely dark."

Bobby didn't like the sound of that. "The chamber of darkness. I heard that'll break anybody."

"Yeah, well whatever he's feeling, I'm feeling it too. It sucks."

"That ain't the worst of your trouble."

"Let me guess. Each one of these shifts is killing me."

Bobby was surprised that he figured that out. Then again, judging by the way the kid looked like death, it should have been obvious. "How did you know?"

"A birdie in Hell told me." Matthew rubbed his eyes, and rolled onto his back.

"It gets worse. If you connect with Sam and Jessica again, you could end up like them."

"Considering how I feel right now, that might be the better option."

"Yeah, well toughen up." Bobby pulled up a chair next to the couch. He wasn't sure if Matthew was looking more on the grey or green side, but either way it wasn't pretty. "Did you find out anything at the library?"

"Other than parking a tank in small spaces with no power steering is an exercise in futility?"

"You better not have damaged that car, or Dean will come back from Hell personally to kill you."

"It's fine. Doing much better than me."

Bobby wasn't in a pitying mood. "Answer the question."

"This entire neighborhood had some real nasty stuff happen when the Spanish came in and took the land from the Ohlone. Property disputes, disease, and a bunch of suspicious stuff no one would detail."

"That makes sense. It probably clung onto someone who came over here from Spain. Violent behavior in those times and beyond can often be traced to evil spirits. All the more reason that this thing has to go away."

"I thought these things couldn't be exorcised."

"The only way it'll go away is to find a passage to the afterlife."

"Great, there's a doorway here. We'll give it a huge send off complete with streamers and balloons."

"It ain't that easy."

"Of course not."

"The Ekimmu has to stay attached to soul when they pass, and something tells me by how old this one is that it hasn't been able to do that, or hasn't found the right soul. If it does eventually attach, it'll never separate from that person in the Underworld. They'll be locked forever."

"Jess is stuck in limbo, so it can't go on with her. What are the chances that it'll work with Sam?"

Bobby's heart sank. "Damn. His abilities. Exactly the type of power a psychic vampire would want to control."

"Sam's psychic abilities? So the vamp will end up predicting the future, big deal."

"Sam's abilities are a little stronger than that."

"Why didn't I guess that? How much stronger?"

"When Dean died, the most powerful demon in Hell couldn't take out Sam. She gave him everything she got, and nothing happened."

"Sam's a demon?"

"No, but he was given the abilities to lead a demon army by one."

"Fantastic." Matthew grabbed his throbbing head. "I'm excited to be a part of this."

That turned Bobby's heart sour. He remembered sadly the last time he heard that phrase. "You did connect with Dean."

"Glad you're on board. I hate to cut our fascinating chat short, but I need some sleep."

"I wouldn't do that, unless you want to be tripping the light fantastic."

"English please."

"In other words, you need to slow down those internal sensors of yours. Sleep makes the shifting worse."

"How can I not sleep? There's no guarantee staying awake will slow it down."

"Nope, but I'm not taking chances. I hope you like strong coffee."

Matthew huffed in frustration. "No way. I'll take my chances."

Bobby moved in closer. "You may not like this, but you're the only chance we have to save three lost souls, two of which mean a great deal to me. Now how do you want your coffee?"

Matthew sighed. "Starbucks, redeye, double shot."

--

His head jerked up in a startled state, forcing Dean awake from his drifting off. His surroundings were still lost in pitch black, and he had to admit, insanity was setting in a little. The darkness was daunting, and beginning to take its toll. "Sam? Matthew?" His gravely voice was unrecognizable to him, the knowledge that his thirst would never be quenched making his despair worse. He saw now how the humanity was drained.

He shook off his somber thoughts, knowing that this place was meant to break spirits. He was never one to lie down in a tough situation, so why start now? His dad was tough enough to climb out of Hell, so why couldn't he? Especially when he had a portal at his disposal. Sam needed him, and he couldn't spend eternity thinking how he let him down.

Dean twisted his aching and weak hand in the tight cuff attached. His limbs felt like rubber, and his muscles were useless after being chained in one place so long, but he couldn't let that stop him. It wasn't about his own suffering anymore. He glided his palm along the stone wall, finding a particular jagged edge in the rock that was extra sharp. He had no idea if this would work, but he had to try. He took in a few deep breaths, telling himself he had nothing to lose.

"Here goes nothing." He drew in a long hard breath, bit his lip, and the pounded the cuff with his right hand attached into the sharp rock. He groaned sharply over the stinging pain, and did it again. And again, each time biting worse than the first. He sensed the progress though, the iron buckling, and kept going, hoping that the cuff would fall off before he passed out from the pain.

--

Sam gently clasped her supple hand, his thumb brushing tiny circles on her small palm as they progressed forward. He finally had Jess back again, the way it was supposed to be. Jess's sweet smile made his heart sink more, and accelerated his desire for the life beyond. She stopped and leaned forward, touching her lips in a soft press onto his, sliding them over to his ear. "All we have to do is go that way," she whispered, "and eternal life is ours."

He returned an endearing kiss of his own, ready to take the next step in their lives together. They stepped side by side toward the unknown, the atmosphere soothing him with each motion into the fog.

All of a sudden, he felt her grasp slip away, frightening him when she disappeared from view. His calm spiked to fear as he retreated to find her. "Jess?" He shouted with a frantic edge, fearing that he had lost her again. Each step took him farther from the fog into clear sight, bringing him back to a far more intimidating place. _Why did she turn around?_ After a few more steps she appeared in the distance, her slender frame frozen in her place, her eyes gazing off into the space beside her.

"Jess?"

She stood trembling, her hands moving up and down over her arms as if she fought the bitter cold. Each second the shakes grew worse, her body pushed farther out of control. Her head swayed back and forth, at first with an easy tempo, but eventually picking up enough speed to where her face was a clouded distorted image, flailing wildly.

"No!" Sam stepped forward, his insides twisting in panic, but he was forced to stop and brace himself when Jess let out a deafening yell. Something hit him like a lightening bolt, knocking the wind out of him as he fell backward onto the ground. He felt the tumultuous churning inside and stretched his hands forward, watching with horror them shake slightly, then quiver at a more frantic pace. He turned his eyes up to a vacant Jess, who stared off into space but her body was now calm. "Help me Jess!"

She didn't react, still standing without awareness. He felt something inside overtake each part of him, as if it was conquering a battlefield with lightening speed and moving on. He knew what was happening, for the memory of his demonic possession was too fresh. He doubled over and groaned, digging deep for any inner strength that could save him.

As he was on the brink of surrender, the fear triggered something inside. His survival instinct, his freak adrenaline thing, it was the same thing happened recently. That power was triggered by Lilith before, and now it was giving him the break he needed. "No," he said, defiant against the force inside. He clenched his shivering fists and closed his eyes, focusing and channeling all his inner energy.

At a snail's pace, Sam harvested his new found strength to pull himself off the ground, his face twisting as he gained slow control. He staggered from a blow as his occupant wasn't about to lose control either, but that forced Sam to come back with more power, straightening himself with gritted teeth and intense determination. He let out a painful cry when he felt a sharp stab to his side, but knew it wasn't real, especially when he looked down and didn't see a wound.

He firmly planted his feet, pulling in his short frantic breaths into one deep long one, building up for one final assault. His color turned deep red as he screamed with a violent force, every part of him quaking as something hazy pushed away from him, hanging off in the distance, too stunned to move.

Sam fell backward in exhaustion, shaking his head and focusing just in time to see the indistinct figure rushing toward a dazed Jess. "Stop!" he shouted, holding his hand up, watching the image bounce away from Jess and slide off to the right. There it stopped and hovered for a few seconds, before coming back with renewed force.

"Leave her alone!" Sam yelled, pushing it back again with his mind. This time it resisted harder, and locked with Sam in a battle of wills over control of Jessica.

Sam grunted, feeling his energy erode, but still unwilling to surrender.

"What's happening?" Sam heard from behind him.

"Grab Jess, get her out of here!" Sam shouted, barely able to get out the words in struggle through his clenched teeth. He saw Matthew out of the corner of his eye quickly spring into action, and within a few seconds both were out of view.

The distraction was enough for the creature to let its guard down a little, and Sam took his opportunity. He let his power explode, feeling a force zoom by him at a staggering speed, knocking him over before disappearing. Sam fell slack to the ground, panting heavily while trying to recover from his exhausting fight. Clarity hit him a few seconds later and his head flew up, scanning his surroundings. "Jess?"

"Over here Sam," Matthew said, bringing them closer, before she fell to the ground. Matthew was too weak to hang on.

Sam moved over to a prone Jess, picking her up and holding her in his arms. "Jess," he said shaking her and looking into her distant eyes. "Are you okay?"

Her face wandered down, and then slowly trailed up, meeting Sam's troubled eyes fixed upon her. "Sam?"

Sam choked out a sob in relief, letting a few tears slide down his cheeks when he clutched onto her tighter. "You're safe now."

"You came back for me."

Sam's heart fell as his hug swallowed her further, giving them both the comfort they desperately needed.

"Sam, I hate to break up the reunion, but we've got problems. You've got one nasty son of a bitch after you."

He nodded. "I can fight it. Whatever is out there will be back, and will go for Jess. I need to protect her."

"It's an Ekimmu."

Sam's insides churned. "A psychic vampire? Those are ancient. How did one get summoned?"

"By this." Matthew grabbed his amulet.

"You've got to go back and destroy it."

"No way. It's the only way for me to move through the doorway and get you guys back."

Sam shook his head. "We're already dead. I can protect us while we go on, but it can hurt you."

Matthew inched closer, but his body felt like it was held down by heavy weights. Even in shifting he felt like crap, and he was getting weaker by the second. "Sam, please listen to me. You're not dead. You and Jess can't go on. You both are stuck in limbo."

"Sam," Jess said, "I can't go past the threshold. Something is stopping me. Something is stopping us."

"Think about this Sam!" Matthew said, desperation hanging in his voice. "You're the hunter, do I need to explain this? This evil spirit has to be eradicated, or it will continue to terrorize souls."

Sam didn't want to believe it was true. He was tired of hunting, tired of being the one to save everyone.

"Sam, that's not all. We found a way to reach Dean."

Sam's heart jumped at the mention. "Dean?"

"This doorway is based on connections, and it goes straight to him in Hell. I know, I visited him there. He's in a really bad place right now and needs us."

Sam looked down at Jess, who was calm and comfortable in his arms. This felt so right. They should be together. He'd let Dean go. Still, he couldn't bear the thought of Dean suffering, especially if there was a chance to save him. "Okay, we'll rescue Dean, but I'm not going back."

"Sam, it's not your time-" Suddenly, Matthew was flung backward, disappearing into the misty horizon. Sam turned in shock to see the distorted form back, and then disappearing in the fog after Matthew.

"No!" Sam released Jessica and ran into the fog, feeling anguish when his visual scan found nothing. "Matthew!"

--

Bobby raced into the living room to help. Sheila performed CPR and mouth to mouth on Matthew, who was flat on the floor. "He's not breathing."

Bobby wasted no time in pulling out his cell phone and dialing 911. "We need an ambulance, fast."


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: We're in the thick of the plot now. Only a chapter or two left after this one. Happy reading!**

**--**

"Time of death, 4:26." The doctor snapped off his gloves, offering his best sympathetic glance, one that said he was sorry for the loss, but at the same time, life goes on. Sheila was too overcome to take his gesture well.

"Thanks doc," Bobby said as the doctor walked out of the room. He watched Sheila, lip quivering, eyes puffing when tears fell from them. The two remaining nurses began their cleanup routine, removing all the tubes and wires from the body, doing so in their systematic fashion.

"You okay?" Bobby asked Sheila. She lowered her head into her hand, and shook it in between sobs. Bobby didn't think so.

"Nurse, can we have some time alone? You know, to say goodbye." Bobby had his share of hospital deaths, and he and Sheila needed to talk.

"Of course." The two nurses left, leaving Sheila and Bobby alone with the fast cooling corpse.

"How…how can he be dead?" Sheila covered her mouth with her hand to hide her sobs, but that didn't stop them from coming.

"Something happened on the other side. He crossed a line somehow."

"Somehow? He's dead. I would say that's a pretty bad development."

Bobby understood her upset, but they didn't have much time. "Sheila, I don't have time to explain this, but I've seen cures for death before. He can get over this."

Sheila broke into harder cries. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. Are you actually suggesting he can come back from the dead? I mean he's…oh Matthew." She resumed her tearful wail.

Bobby gave her a little time to get it all out. About two seconds. "Look, I understand, the idea comes across as weird. But Matthew is in a unique position and can be saved. I need you to be strong, and help me here."

"Help you with what?"

"We've got to get his body out of here, undetected."

"Why?"

"He needs to get back to his bedroom, near the doorway."

Sheila wrangled in her tears, realizing he was serious. "You're not kidding. You think he might actually come back?"

"There's a chance, that's all that matters."

Sheila calmed herself, walking over to Matthew, touching his clammy hand. She took in a deep breath, bit her lip, and turned to Bobby. "I'll grab some scrubs and a sheet, you get a gurney."

--

As many times as he'd been knocked out in his life, gone to bed in a unfamiliar place, not to mention waking up on the same day for months and coming back from the dead, the disoriented feeling that often accompanied coming around in a strange place never ceased to bother him.

Sam jerked up, swiping his shaking hand over his face, while he contemplated in his daze where he was this time. He was alone, back in his, er, Matthew's apartment.

His hands pressed down on the mattress, raising him up to his feet, and he visually scanned the room. "Bobby?" He asked, not getting a response. He took one step into the living room, not finding a sign of anyone. What was going on now? How long would stay here this time? He couldn't take any more shifts. Where was Jess?

A sigh escaped his lips, and he wandered back into the bedroom. Suddenly that recognizable sharp, stabbing pain to his head emerged as he staggered to the bed, sinking onto the edge of it. He groaned in agony, then the fuzzy picture became clear.

It was a hospital emergency room, an unresponsive man being wheeled in to a ready crew of doctors and nurses, tubes and wires hanging from him. Within a minute his body jolted numerous times as the paddles shocked him. Two figures stood nearby watching in distress, but he couldn't make out their faces.

"Clear" someone else shouted, but Sam saw their hopes fade the longer the sound of flat line rang. Eventually the machines were turned off, and there was a solemn pause of silence before someone finally spoke. "Time of death…"

Sam came back around, crying out in pain as the room came back into focus. As with all his other visions, it left him frightened, and disconcerted. "No, Matthew!" He took a few steps forward, but was stopped.

"Sam?"

He turned around to see Jess, standing in the far corner. He walked over and grabbed onto her tight, soaking in all that comfort that her mere touch gave him.

"What's wrong Sam?"

"Everything," he replied, still hanging on for dear life. He wasn't sure how much more his nerves could take, but he had to pull it together, for Matthew needed him. If he could find him, maybe he could save him from dying. If he could save Matthew, maybe he could save...He pulled away, looking at Jess' worried stare, but accepting he had to act fast.

"We have to go." He noticed Jess not following his lead, and turned to her confused.

"I can't leave Sam. I'm bound by the portal."

"I have to find Matthew. I'll be back."

"Don't leave me Sam. I'm scared. I'm afraid it'll come for me."

Sam sensed every ounce of her fear just by the terror on her face and it tore into him. He'd left her once before, and the results were horrifying. He wondered if she was this scared before, when yellow eyes appeared, when she hopelessly glided to the ceiling, when she…he wiped that vision of the fire from his mind.

He moved close toward her brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, hoping to calm her frantic state. "I won't let anything hurt you ever again Jess. We'll find a way to get you through this doorway."

She smiled, closing her eyes, taking in the comfort of his touch.

"But-"

Jess' face fell, and she grasped onto his free hand, hard enough where she sent the message that she wasn't going to let him go easily. "Sam, you don't have to save everyone to save yourself."

"It's not that." He let out a weary sigh, not sure how to explain this to her. "Matthew is my key to getting Dean back. I need to save them both."

"Why Sam? Why can't you let go, and save yourself?"

"They need me. I can't leave them behind Jess."

"Yes, you can."

Sam focused on her piercing and adamant glare, shaking him to the core in the process. It was the same look Dean that gave him in Indiana, just before the hellhounds came. The memory triggered his already raw emotions, overwhelming him with grief. "He's suffering, they both are." Sam felt his knees go weak.

Jess supported his heavy weight with all her might as she led him to the bed. She put her hand to his forehead as he began to shiver. "You're burning up."

Chills quickly penetrated his body, and his teeth chattered. "I'm so cold."

She wrapped a nearby blanket around him, rubbing her flat hand all over his back. "What do you think this means?"

Sam shook his head and clasped the blanket around him tighter.

"I can't stand to see you suffer like this Sam. I had a chance while possessed by that thing to see what toll this life has taken on you."

Sam gazed at her earnestly, and felt all his burdens at that one moment crash down on him. His head fell and pressed his lips together, which was difficult considering his teeth wouldn't stop chattering. "I'm so tired Jess," he said with shaking voice. "Tired of fighting, tired of seeing everyone I love die. Everyday I look into the mirror and the face on the other side is barely holding it together."

His head fell to her chest, and she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back harder. She felt his heavy breaths, and gave him a long chance to get it all out. "You do realize that Dean's death has corrected an imbalance."

"How?"

"The spiritual world is very touchy. One small rift creates chaos, and sets everything in motion for correction. We're supposed to be dead too Sam. It's finally time for us to rest."

His tearful face looked into hers. "He went to Hell Jess. That isn't a correction. He doesn't belong there."

She wiped away his tears, and gave him an assuring smile. "Everything happens for a reason. There's a greater plan at work here, one that we shouldn't fight."

"What about Matthew? He shouldn't be lost either."

"He'll find his way back."

Sam tussled with the idea of giving up, of finally surrendering. It wasn't something he did well, but just one look at her told him everything she was saying was true. He knew it was her speaking too, and not some evil at work. He trusted her, and didn't want to make the same mistake like the last time he walked away. "So what do we do?"

"We rest Sam. Our souls are weary and need to be strengthened. In a soul sleep, nothing can hurt us, even that creature."

Sam saw her heavenly, gentle smile and nodded. He felt awful, his strength was gone, as was his urge to fight. "Some rest would be good."

He took her lead as they fell backward on the bed, positioning themselves for a long rest. Sam wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight, for he was never going to let her go again. _I feel better already, _he thought, easily drifting off to sleep.

--

"Crap," Bobby said, coming in, hovering over the bed, checking out the latest development. Neither Jessica nor Sam would stir. "It's not like we have enough to worry about."

"What is it?" Sheila asked, watching Bobby check out Sam and Jess, who looked very peaceful, curled up in bed together.

"My guess is they're in a soul sleep. If that's true, only a dead person can wake them from it."

"Huh, seems like we have a dead person right here." She looked at the form on the couch, wrapped in a sheet. Getting him out of the hospital was disturbingly easy. It ruined her faith in the medical community.

"Yeah, well we can't command him to do it. He's got to be in the right place, and figure it out on his own."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Bobby looked at the couch. "He's got to be in the bedroom, and the sheet needs to be off. He's got to see himself dead, otherwise he won't know it and will stay away forever."

"How long could that take?"

"That body's going to start stinking in a day or two. We don't have much time."

Sheila's comfort level with this plan sank to new lows. Still, it was all they had. She grabbed the feet, while Bobby took the torso. They placed him on the floor in the corner of the bedroom, and the sheet went off.

--

"Hello?" Dean couldn't believe where he was. He wasn't sure what he crawled into, but this place was weird. White, plain, surrounded by fog. He first questioned whether this was, _no, I can't go from Hell to there. _

In the distance, he spotted an average figure. He was frozen in his spot, looking downward, breathing heavily, pretty freaked. He walked up to the young man, who didn't notice him coming. "Hey man, you alright?"

"I'm a...er...I'm...how can this be?"

"Hey pal, get it together." He looked down where the other man's gaze was, and his eyes shot open in surprise. "Bobby? Sam? Jess?" He saw the corpse in the corner too, one that looked like the young man in front of him, only bluer. "Wait, are you Matthew?"

He didn't answer, eyes still fixed on the body below. "I'm dead?" He noticed Sheila's red and swollen eyes.

"I guess I'm a little too late," Dean said. His eyes widened when something else occurred to him. "Crap. Sam's in a soul sleep. Look Matthew, you're the only one that can wake him up."

"How can this happen? This was God's plan for me? I haven't saved anyone yet. I was just supposed to die?"

"Matthew, listen to me. There's still hope. You can go back. Bobby set it all up. Before that happens though, I have to know. The Ekimmu, is that what killed you? Where is it?"

Matthew couldn't answer, continuing his dazed stare downward.

"We need to make sure that thing isn't around to go back with you. I know how to fight it, but we got to find it first."

Matthew's look didn't change as his eyes shifted focus. "Dean? How are you here? Am I in Hell?" He went back to gazing at the body below, unable to break away from the shock.

"You're fine Matthew. I climbed out of Hell."

"How? Is that possible?"

"Haven't you ever read Dante's Inferno?" It occurred to Dean that he hadn't either, but Sam told him the plot. That was enough for him.

"So where am I?"

Dean grabbed onto Matthew, shaking him a bit until he got his attention, pulling him close so he could directly get his point across. "Matthew, you've got to come around. We don't have much time. This Ekimmu, it preys on weakness."

Matthew looked like he was slowly coming around, grasping what he was saying. "I can go back?"

"Yes, Matthew, but first you've got to-" Suddenly a huge force brushed by him, and he saw Matthew jerk a little from the impact. Matthew's expression suddenly changed, to one of malevolence.

Dean released his grip on Matthew and stepped back. "Let him go you son of a bitch."

"I'm really impressed Dean. How did you manage to escape the shackles? You of course know the demons won't rest until they find you."

"I know that exactly. I don't plan on being gone long. I'm here to give you what you want."

"I have a portal at my disposal, one that stretches all the way to Hell. All I need is your brother and his power, and there's no end as to what I can do. I don't need the Underworld."

"Come on, you've been waiting for centuries. I'm offering you Hell. That seems like your sort of place."

"We'd be attached forever. You're willing to do that?"

"It's Hell. At least I'll have some company."

The creature pondered it for a few seconds, and smiled. "Nah, I like the other plan better. I can use Matthew now to wake up Sam."

"Over my dead body." Dean froze, realizing that was a poor choice of words. "Oh to Hell with it." He rushed forward, and with one giant push knocked Matthew downward. A clear, wavy apparition sped away from Matthew, and stopped, hovering for a second to recover from the blow.

Matthew got up. "Dean?"

The creature sped back toward him, and Dean stepped in front. "Just go!" He pushed Matthew toward the thick of the fog, and he disappeared. Dean stood firm in his spot, bearing down for a fight, as the figure accelerated toward him. "Come get me you son of a bitch."


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: This gets very dramatic. I'm nervous about this one, since this is the chapter where it all comes together. Only one chapter left after this. You'll have to let me know if you love it or go ahead and curse at me. Honest feedback is good!**

**--**

He felt numb and empty, and wasn't before long he realized he shouldn't be feeling anything. His mind fought to grasp the concept of consciousness, but his spirit held off. He wanted to rest. Despite the struggle, eventually the mind won out, and his less than welcoming eyes propped open, letting in the soft light.

Sam gently raised himself up, the sound of a nearby fan making the only noise in the room. He sensed something clinging to his side, and looked at what fell from his hold during his awakening.

"Jess." Sam gave her a little shake, but she didn't rouse. "Please Jess, wake up." He held his breath for a few seconds and then sighed, realizing she was still caught in a deep slumber. He didn't remember anything since he fell asleep, but considered that to be a blessing. That short rest was the most peace he'd ever had. His solace was that Jess was still caught in that feeling.

Sam looked all around the room for signs, catching Matthew's body in the corner.

"Aww, Matthew," he uttered with pity in his voice. His heart was heavy, for Matthew didn't deserve this fate. Then again, he didn't know what his fate was. This was all beyond making sense.

He leaned over Jessica, stroking the top of her silky hair with his large hand. His lips kissed her tenderly on the forehead, out of hope that it might wake her, and out of the love that he had. He pulled her closer when he got no response, telling himself he just needed to give her some more time. It would be okay. It had to be.

Sam heard a sudden, giant gasp in the corner, startled by the quick motion up and a struggle for air. He watched Matthew fight for control, and in the process gain some color into his cheeks. "Matthew?"

"Sam?" He asked in between heavy breaths. "How long have you?...Have I?...Whoa what's happening."

"I just woke up, I don't know, and I don't know."

"Oh my God, I don't believe it!" Sheila screamed, rushing to the corner, jumping on the previously prone body. Matthew couldn't make out what was going on, because his view was obscured by his friend clinging onto him. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he knew it would only come out muffled.

"Let the boy breathe," he heard from Bobby in the background.

Sheila pulled back, her face overwrought, but overjoyed. "I didn't think this was possible. I thought Bobby was crazy when he said you could overcome death."

"Yeah," Matthew said, unsure what to say.

Bobby's eyes switched back and forth between Sam and Matthew, both men perplexed over their situation. "Somebody better start talking."

"It worked," Matthew said, remembering all that transpired.

"What worked?" Bobby asked.

"Dean. He was there, wherever there is. He took on the Ekimmu, and pushed me through the portal. He told me I had to wake Sam."

"Why?" Sam asked, still torn over being pulled from his peaceful rest.

"Well, because he said so, and considering you're not dead, I couldn't argue."

"Wait, wait," Bobby said. "Dean got out of Hell?"

"Er, sort of. His plan was to take the psychic vampire back to Hell with him."

"How did he get out of Hell?"

"Have read Dante's Inferno?"

Bobby's un-amused glare sent the message he was ready to punch him for that smart alec response. "I'll cut ya some slack since you weren't breathing a few minutes ago."

"Matthew," Sam interrupted. "Why didn't you wake Jess?"

Matthew's face turned somber. "There's no remains for her to go back to. This way she's at peace."

Sam's heart sank, and he grasped on to Jess tighter, letting her hair brush up against his nose. Matthew was right, but he wasn't ready to let go.

"Sam, we have another issue," Matthew said. "Dean's up there, fighting this thing. We have to close the portal, or it could take control of Dean and really raise a stink. We have to destroy the amulet."

The idea frightened Sam this time, for the two people that mattered the most to him were still stuck. He shook his head. "We have to get Dean and Jess back first."

Matthew gave him an apprehensive gaze. "I don't know if that'll be possible. Dean made it clear he was going back. Of course don't know how to destroy the amulet. I was hoping for more feedback from our resident expert over there." He pointed his head toward Bobby.

Bobby shrugged. "I'm not sure what the best way is either, but I know someone who might."

Matthew sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Can your psychic friend make a house call this time? I'm pretty tired."

"How much slack are you expecting from me?"

"I died Bobby. I'm spent here!"

Bobby shook his head and walked in the other room, getting out his cell phone. "Wussy."

--

Control became increasingly difficult. The uncomfortable swarm worked its way through, a hot and tingling sensation crawling under his skin, a burning feeling moving into the bloodstream, the loud and fast pumping of his anxious heart echoing in his ears. Dean had never been possessed by a demon before, but he'd take black smoke shoved down his throat over this.

"Get out!" He shouted, but it was no use. The thing still infiltrated him, bit by bit.

_"Long and slow Dean, the way you like it."_

Dean fell to his knees, groaning and straining hard against the beast within. "You better be a girl, or this gets really weird."

_"Funny Dean. Ready to take me to Hell now? Or were you bluffing?"_

Dean found the communicating by thoughts thing to be unsettling, but he couldn't tune it out either. He was stuck, and all of a sudden wasn't too confident about his plan.

"_Come on Dean, it'll be fun. You and me, our little reign of terror, sliding through the portal. It'll be like Disneyland. It sure beats chains in Hell." _

As much as the idea of going back to Hell killed him, he couldn't let this thing get away with its terror either. It'd been causing problems too long. "No way. You're coming with me." Dean rose to his feet slowly and took a few staggered steps forward, but didn't get very far. The power of the creature was too great. Next thing he knew, he was moving in the opposite direction.

"_No, this way. We've got a doorway to find. Sam will be so happy to see you."_

--

"I normally don't do house calls," Dom said, coming into the apartment. He froze the second he saw Sam standing nearby. "Whoa."

Sam didn't say anything, twisting his head in confusion and shrugging at Bobby.

"Domino?" Bobby asked, also confused by his reaction to Sam.

"You're more intense in person," Dom said to Sam, moving closer. "The conflict inside between dark and light is boiling, and your power is a powder keg waiting to go off. There's much danger within you."

Sam gave Dom a crooked eye, unimpressed over the scrutiny. "Some psychic. You just described Darth Vader."

Dom continued his visual read, making sure he got everything out of the complex vibes. "Bobby, I didn't have an answer for you when I got here, but now I do. I'll warn you, it's risky."

Matthew entered, hearing every word that Dom had said from the other room. He noticed Sam's unease, and wondered what was going on. "What's risky?"

"He's the only one with the power to destroy the amulet, but he's a freight train running out of control. Fighting that battle could set him loose."

"You came up with that just by looking at him?" Matthew asked, not understanding.

"Anyone can destroy an amulet, but he can destroy its power. His special abilities are strong, and he meets the obvious criteria. He's the blood relative of its original guardian."

"Wait, let me get this straight. Destroying the amulet might unlock something inside Sam? Isn't there another way?"

"I'm willing to take that risk," Sam said. "But it doesn't get destroyed until my brother and girlfriend come back."

Dom sensed the other presence in the bedroom, wandering in a slow pace to the slumbering figure on the bed. He placed his hand on her, and took in the feeling of her spirit. "This girl is at peace. Soon she will move on to where she is destined. Her place is not here."

He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and grimaced at the turmoil that hit him all at once. "There's a great struggle happening. The wrong outcome will produce dire consequences."

"I know," Sam said behind him. "I feel it too. That's why I've got to save him."

"If you let loose a spirit without a physical body," Dom said pausing, "you get what you hunt. He's no better here than there."

"There's a body, in South Dakota."

"There's no guarantee he'll find it, and there's no time to retrieve it. Your best option is to close this doorway."

Sam took that comment like a punch in the gut, and his head and shoulders drooped, the devastation showing through his glassy eyes. He couldn't let this opportunity go. Another one might not come up, and he couldn't bear anymore of Dean suffering. "I can't do that."

"Then you might be sealing our doom."

"Dom," Bobby said, giving Sam a moment to ponder his options. "What exactly has to happen here?"

"I brought an incantation that should work. He can channel his abilities to assure its destruction. It will destroy both the physical and mystical parts that the amulet holds."

"What happens to the doorway?" Matthew asked.

"All entrances will collapse. Spirits will be stuck where they are, and in the state they're in."

"We can't leave Dean stuck for eternity with that thing," Sam said with stern determination. "We save him. Plus-" his eyes fell on Jess, looking so calm. He wasn't ready to give up on her. Not yet. There had to be a way.

"Sam?" Bobby asked, concerned about his long wander off.

Sam shook out of his stare. "Sorry. I'm not ready to destroy this portal. I-"

Suddenly the room spun a half circle in a violent whirr, and he was somewhere else. In the fog. He couldn't believe his luck at this shift. Now was his chance.

Sam felt the evil nearby, closing in on him. There was also a familiar vibe. "Dean?"

A form emerged from the fog, behind him. "Sammy, great to see you!"

Sam whipped around, at first relieved, but that quickly turned to disturbance. "You're not Dean."

"I'm one handsome devil. Pardon the pun of course."

Sam held his hands forward, reacting with calm in order to get through. "Dean, I know you're in there. Listen to me, there's a way to fight it."

"Only you have the power to expel me Sam. It's all the freakish mojo that's cursed you since birth. Seeing that dysfunctional part of you, I almost felt sorry for what an oddball you are. I got over it."

Sam gritted his teeth, feeling all that anger seething inside. He knew he had to be careful, for whatever he did would affect Dean too. He clenched his fists, taking in deep breaths. "Ah, to Hell with it." He threw out his arm, and Dean went flying backward. He fell to the ground with a hard impact, but Sam didn't see anything split from Dean.

Dean stood up with a grin, wiping a thin trickle of blood off his lip. "Nice try, can you do this?" Dean ran up to him and with a flying leap kicked Sam square in the torso, sending him careening a long distance. Sam doubled over in agony on the ground, realizing this thing was drawing more strength from Dean. "Come on Dean. We can fight it together."

"He's not listening." Dean came over and kicked Sam in the side a couple of times, getting pained groans in response. He went for the chin in an upper cut punch, knocking Sam flat on his back. While Sam's eyes crossed from the harsh impact, Dean's foot extended out for another blow, but Sam was alert enough to raise his hands and block it from making contact. He grasped on real tight and pushed with all his strength. Dean flipped in the air, landing several feet away. Sam jumped up, positioning his stance to defend the next move.

Dean made a rush for him, and Sam ducked, delivering a blow in the midsection. Dean went for another hit and Sam blocked it, grabbing his arm. Dean tried a hook punch with the other arm and Sam held onto that too by the wrist, locking the two in a major struggle over control. For several seconds both held their ground with teeth clenched, faces turning red in the process.

All of a sudden, Dean's resistance lessened and his eyes changed. "Push me backward Sam, hard."

Sam examined him carefully, unable to tell if this was a trick. "Dean,"

"Just do it! There's no time."

Sam wasn't sure what he was up to, and looked at his brother with ambivalence. Dean's insistence through his glance stayed firm, and something inside Sam told him this was truly his brother talking to him. He bit his lip and nodded. He pulled together all his strength, released his hold of Dean and threw his arms in a fast jerk forward, making contact with Dean's chest and flinging him backward. Dean was airborne for several feet, hit the ground and slid another foot before disappearing.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, ready to go after him. He felt something grip him from behind, stopping him from going forward.

"That's the portal to Hell Sam. You can't go there."

Sam struggled, but didn't have much left since the fight weakened him, which is probably why Matthew could hold him back. "I've got to save him."

"You can't. Let's go!"

Sam felt himself yanked in the opposite direction. "No, Dean!" Then everything went blank.

--

As soon as Sam woke up, he reached over to a disoriented Matthew and grabbed him by the shirt. "I should kill you!"

"Save that rage for something else Sam. Use it to destroy the amulet. Otherwise that thing climbs out of Hell and we're no better off."

He gripped onto Matthew tighter, and his temper raged harder. "I'll take my chances! I'll wait until to next shift! I can fight it."

"No Sam!" Bobby's voice thundered behind him. "Just stop!" Sam looked at him with pained expression, his eyes pleading with Bobby to see it his way.

"Sam," Bobby said in a calmer voice, "It's time to put an end to this. It's what Dean would do."

Sam looked at Bobby's unyielding expression, and turned back to Matthew, fighting for several seconds to control his rage before letting go and falling backward. He buried his head in his hands, torn over what to do next.

Bobby took a few steps over, crouching down next to Sam. "You've got to let him go."

Sam raised his head up, his wounded eyes falling on Bobby. "I don't know how."

"Let him go, Sam." Matthew said. "This is what that warning was for."

Sam huffed, defeated and out of hope. Whatever was happening, he couldn't fight it anymore. This was bigger than him. He climbed up to his feet, accepting help from Bobby. He wandered slowly over to Jessica, taking in one more look at her precious face. His thumb swept over her soft cheek, and he broke into tears. "How can I lose them both again?"

Bobby put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Sam, it's the right thing to do."

Sam took a long pause, feeling everything in his world crash down on him. After staying strong in this fight, after all the hope, now he has to let go again. Nothing will change, he'll be the only one left behind. Bobby was right though, it's what Dean would do. He had to honor that, whether he liked it or not. He wiped away his streaming tears, and gave Bobby a nod.

Bobby slightly smiled. "Good." He calmly pulled out a piece of paper in his pocket and pointed to the corner. "Over there."

Sam focused his red eyes on to the corner, absentmindedly grabbing from paper from Bobby. Matthew stepped in front of him, giving him a sympathetic nod, and removed the amulet from his neck. He gently placed it in Sam's palm, closing his hand shut while trying to show encouragement, but knew that would be of little solace.

Sam shuffled like a zombie into the corner. Somehow, he knew what to do. He had to channel all that anger, all that despair, all the grief and focus it on the power of the amulet. He closed his eyes and held onto the charm tight, centering his mixed feelings and stray thoughts into one common stream. He opened his eyes, and recited the spell on the paper.

"Jam tibi impero et præcipio maligne spiritus! ut confestim allata et circulo discedas, absque omni strepito, terrore, clamore et foetore, asque sine omni damno mei tam animæ quam corporis, absque omni læsione cujuscunque creaturæ vel rei; et ad locum a justissimo tibi deputatum in momento et ictu oculi abeas; et hinc proripias.

He felt the rapid surge within, and at first it was overpowering. He concentrated harder, harnessing the energy, pushing it through to only one purpose. He felt the love of his mother, his brother, and Jess, then the anger over their losses. He felt the horrors of everything he's had to fight in his life, the guilt over all the people he couldn't save, and the alienation he was still carrying over his dad. All that swelled into one tumultuous sensation, and in unison his abilities surfaced.

Bobby, Matthew, and Dom watched Sam's struggle, and all were more than concerned. "How do we know if something's wrong?" Matthew asked in a whisper.

"A flash of white light, then death for us all." Dom said. Both Bobby and Matthew looked at him horrified. Dom shrugged. "I told you he was unstable."

Sam dug deeper into the throes of his mind, capturing all that he needed to accomplish this one task. The energy grew more vicious, but with each second he was gaining better control. He focused on the hardness of the object in this hand, clenching onto it tighter until it cut into him. Finally, everything exploded within. He fell to his knees, and let out a deafening yell.

In a flash it was all over. He was left exhausted, drained in everyway, but he knew he was successful. He didn't sense the presence of the portal anymore, and noticed the difference in his hand. Sam opened his eyes and took in several deep breaths to pull himself together, wiping the sweat from his brow. Something else happened with the experience too; it left him cold and empty. A price came with this success, and he wasn't pleased.

Sam slowly got up and staggered toward the three silent men, stopping right in front of them. With a chilling glare he held up his hand, opened his blackened palm, and let the scattered ashes fall to the ground.

Before any of them could react, a noise came from the bed, and all turned their attention in time to see Jess fade away into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a small dent in the pillow and covers. Without a word, a livid Sam brushed past them, his footsteps thumping through the living room, stopping when the front door opened and slammed shut.


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n: Here it is, final chapter. Happy reading!**

**--**

He knew what was lurking in the dark. Every bit of him felt the threat, the evil nearby. He opened the creaky door, holding the flashlight up near his shoulder, the beam of light revealing scattered belongings, ones that were buried underneath the layers of dust and cobwebs. It was clear no one had given this place a thought for years.

If Sam had learned to trust one thing, it was his instincts. What he sought was hiding in the shadows, and it wanted a piece of him. He was more than ready for it. Demons had been gunning for him at a record pace the last several weeks, all with chips on their shoulders after what happened with Lilith. Once word had gotten around that even the Ekimmu couldn't take him, everyone especially embraced this new challenge.

They weren't getting very far though. Once the full power of his abilities were unleashed, even telekinesis didn't work against him anymore. He didn't want to use his power unless he had to, but often times he did. The offensive was too great. He imagined that Dean would be disappointed, but Dean would also want him to survive.

Still, something didn't feel right about this one. There was another presence, another disturbance that he couldn't explain. There was no time for speculating though. In the distance he saw a silhouette swipe through the small stream of light coming from the doorway. He took in a deep breath, still feeling weird over the fact that he didn't have a weapon to clutch onto, or that he needed one, and crept slowly forward.

He reached the doorway, leaning forward, looking from side to side. He didn't see anything, but he felt the presence stronger than he ever had before. Without warning legs swung down from the ceiling, making an immediate impact on his chest and knocking him backward. He fell on his back and gasped for air, fighting hard to get back the wind that was knocked out of him.

He only had a split second to react when something zipped toward him in a blur. Enough light came through the window where he saw it coming and he threw his arm out, stopping the demon in its tracks a few inches in front of him. Sam stood up while containing her, then in a fit of anger threw her against the wall, bouncing her off straight into the center of a Devil's Trap.

The woman smiled, not at all worried about her predicament. "Fine, send me back. Hell's actually gotten fun now. Dean's in a new chamber now. This one involves acid being poured into open wounds. Demons are lining up."

Sam choked back his disgust, for he knew that she wanted to rile him. "Then I'll be doing you a favor." Sam started the exorcism without hesitation. He didn't want to waste any time.

"I'm not here to come after you Sam," she said, grunting and gritting her teeth in pain. "I'm here to deliver a message."

Sam trailed off his Latin. "Start talking."

"A deal can be made Sam. There's someone interested in your new found power."

"What sort of deal?"

"Your service, in exchange for Dean."

"My service?"

"You know, henchman, someone's bitch. Such a pretty one too. As long as you do what you're told, Dean can go on, in his futile attempt to fight all things evil. Of course, that will mean he'll probably have to fight you, but we know he'll never have the cajones to hurt you."

Sam pondered the offer, but within a few seconds toughened his stance, tuning out her taunts. "No way. There's always a catch to these deals."

"You know what happens after the acid? You think boiling in oil was just a Middle Ages thing?"

"You're lying."

"Fine. Believe what you want. Don't think moving Dean's body from Bobby's is helping either. Clever though, knowing that we'd use it as leverage against you. We'll find it eventually."

Sam dropped his chin and squinted, visions of a petrified Dean screaming in gut wrenching pain swimming through his mind. It wasn't long before he realized she put them there. He closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and with one deep breath channeled the anger welling inside. He was sending her back to Hell in a fury. "Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei…"

"The offer doesn't end here Sam. Take time to think about it. Dean's got eternity. He'll get used to the suffering."

That only made Sam angrier, forcing him to raise his voice for the rest. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

The woman reared her head back, and the black smoke poured into the ceiling before exploding.

Sam leaned over, letting his outer defenses crumble, fighting a wave of nausea when his anxiety emerged to the surface. It happened again. He let another chance go. "Dean wouldn't want this," he reminded himself, but that didn't stop him from grabbing his head in remorse, fighting back the tears.

Suddenly, he heard a noise, and all instincts snapped back into place. He reached over, fumbling to find his flashlight, grasping onto it tight with both hands. He backed toward the wall, into a dark area, controlling his breath, waiting for whoever was coming to get closer.

The dark figure walked slowly into the center of the room, stopping to take a long look around. Sam couldn't make out the face in the dim light, but he could tell it was a man who didn't appear to have a weapon. Sam found his opportunity, and lunged at the figure's feet, toppling his frame to the ground.

"Don't hurt me!" The other person said, bracing his arms in front in protection.

Sam knew that voice. "Matthew?"

"Sam? Is that you?"

Sam frowned, turned on his flashlight and offered his hand to help up Matthew. "You shouldn't be here, especially without a weapon. How'd you find me?"

"Long story," Matthew said, grunting as he rose to his feet. "I don't have a weapon because I didn't want to hurt you."

Sam wasn't convinced. After all, he hadn't seen Matthew in a couple of months, not since they closed the portal, and wasn't sure how he was able to find him. He reached in his pocket, and splashed the contents of the flask.

Matthew was startled, but only because he wasn't expecting something wet. "Oh yeah, the standard "how are you doing?" hunter greeting. No Sam, I'm not possessed."

"Why are you here Matthew?" Sam twisted the cap back onto the flask and put it away, still not sure if he was pleased or annoyed.

"I had some stupid dream, okay. Twice. I swear I thought I was going crazy."

"You had a dream," Sam replied skeptically.

"I've had several actually, visions sometimes too. It seems our encounter has triggered some hidden switch inside me that I can't turn off. Luckily no more shifting, but still, it freaks me out."

Sam let a little of his empathy slide through. "I know, I've been getting those things too."

"You've also been wreaking havoc all throughout the supernatural world. Domino picked up that much. Your new found magic is setting off a nice trail of cosmic bread crumbs and disturbances, triggering all sorts of crap. Bobby thinks you should be careful, or demons will pick up on that."

Sam scoffed. "He's right about that."

"Sam, Bobby's worried sick about you, and so am I. We were afraid you're going to go off and do something desperate, and so far from what we're witnessing, nothing is proving us wrong."

"Thanks for your concern, but I can handle this on my own."

Matthew jumped in front of Sam, moving closer. "Oh, that's it? You leave my apartment a while ago and disappear without a trace, and you expect us to just pretend you don't exist?"

Sam pushed Matthew away. "This doesn't concern you."

"Oh, this so does concern me. Thanks to you, I'm officially dead now. There's a certificate on file and everything. My life is so screwed up now I can't go back. My destiny is pretty clear, I'm a hunter whether I like it or not. As long as these dreams lead me somewhere, which they have, I'm following them. This one led me to you. I think that means something."

"Matthew, things have gotten pretty dangerous. I'm a target."

"Yeah, but the demons can't touch you, can they?"

Sam shook his head. "It doesn't matter, I'm seeing more of them than ever. They'll find a way to get to me."

"Right, dangling Dean's soul like a carrot in front of a rabbit. I heard everything. You can't give into that Sam."

Sam pursued his lips together and nodded grimly. "I know."

"Sam, come with me. I've been working with Domino and Bobby the last month, trying to put my skills to good use, preparing me for my new life. They've got info on Dean, but need to see you personally."

Sam shook his head. "No, my place is out here, getting as many of them as I can."

Matthew rubbed his palms together, trying to come up with a way to get him to listen. "Sam, do you remember how I believed that all of this happened for a reason, and there was no coincidence? The more I work with Domino, the more I see that's the truth. I don't think it's over. It's all clicking into place."

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, I'll just tell you. Dean isn't supposed to stay in Hell. There's that whole timing thing though, and it's not his time to leave yet. We need to wait it out longer. The demons sense your desperation, and know they don't have much time."

Sam wasn't impressed. "You sure a beautiful white angel didn't tell you that in a dream?"

"I'm serious Sam. Domino feels it, and so do I. You don't see it because you're so immersed in anger and hate. That's why you're so powerful right now. That's why you need to come with me."

"No way." Sam turned away, taking a few steps toward the door.

"Yeah, I figured as much." Matthew reached into his jacket, pulling out an iron bar, hitting Sam on the back of the head with it. Sam fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Matthew stepped over the motionless body, wondering how much it'll kill him physically to pick up Sam and carry him to the car. "I'll have to thank Bobby for giving me his Plan B."

--

"You're getting to be a pain," Sam said to Matthew, spotting him standing nearby once he awoke. He had a long list of things in his mind of what he could do to him right now.

"Don't get all wet," Bobby said from behind him. "He was only following orders."

Sam tried to raise himself up, but didn't get farther than a head lift. In his alarm he looked at the round table he was on, and found he was in the middle of a seal, one that didn't look familiar. "What symbol is this?"

"It's the seal of the Archangel Michael," Bobby answered. "Trust me, that wasn't an easy one to put together."

Sam wasn't pleased, but understood the symbolism. "The warrior of God, fighter of demons."

"You think that Dean was the only one that was supposed to watch out for you?"

"Is this about the having to kill me if I go evil thing?"

"Well that's one way of putting it. Some bad stuff has been going on, and you're the source."

"Bobby, please." Sam's head fell backwards, resting on the table. "I haven't gone darkside."

"No, just unleashing that monster inside from time to time to deal with your pent up revenge. The fact that this seal is keeping you contained isn't adding to my comfort."

"I'm not dangerous Bobby, at least to humans. If Dean was here, he'd believe me."

"Damn straight he would. That's why it's me doing this. We need to make sure you don't end up losing control and fighting for the wrong team."

"I only use my abilities to protect myself."

"Which has brought tons more demons out of the woodwork. You're making our jobs harder."

"That's not what I wanted to happen."

"Yeah, well you know what good intentions are made of. We found a way to fix this." Bobby looked up at Domino. "Go ahead."

Domino moved closer to Sam, picking up his nervousness. He opened the book, and raised his flattened palm into the air. "Nos coegi vos nobis, quisquis vos may exsisto, immunda phasmatis, diabolus vox, coniecto pervasor, scelestus legio, contraho, quod sects…"

Domino paused, while he and Bobby checked on Sam, watching his increased breath and uncomfortable look.

"Keep going!" Sam said, understanding what was happening.

"Subsisto per vestri praesumptio, dolosus serpent, frustro genus hominum, ut persecute templum, excrucio God's desumo, quod cribro lemma ut siligoinis."

Sam closed his eyes, and felt something rise up inside, something different. Black smoke wasn't going to expel from him this time, but the discomfort was enough for him to feel his heart sink into his stomach, and every part ache. He felt like he was going to explode. "Finish it."

"Is est to order no vobis per plurrimi Altus Deus, quicum in vestri superbus insolence vos etiam simulatio futurus par!"

Sam gritted his teeth and groaned, rearing his head back and arching his body in tight form just before he went limp. Bobby, Sam and Matthew watched the unconscious man with baited breath, hoping nothing else would happen. After a long minute, Domino spoke. "I think we're good."

"What exactly did we just do?" Matthew asked.

"It was essentially putting the cork back on the bottle," Bobby replied. "His abilities are still there, but back to where they were. That should fend off the uprising of demons for a while. At least until, you know."

Sam began to stir, and Bobby gave Matthew the nod. He put his fingernail to the line, ready to break the seal. "Promise not to kill me?"

Sam gave him the evil eye. "Oh, you can count on it."

Matthew stepped back in fear. "Are you sure it worked?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll do it myself." He pulled the knife from his pocket and scratched a line in the seal. He offered his hand and helped Sam up.

"Thanks Bobby," Sam said, referring the help and with the ritual. "Since that's settled, what can we do about Dean?"

Bobby had an answer, but knew Sam wasn't going to like it. "Nothing."

Before Sam could protest, Bobby jumped in with a further explanation. "Something big's coming, and we need to wait for the fallout."

"He's burning in Hell Bobby!"

"Don't you think I know that! The mere thought just-" Bobby held back his upset, for he knew letting his fears surface over Dean wouldn't do any good. "We just need more time."

Sam moved closer to Bobby, towering over him, catching his eye. "No."

"Think about this Sam!" Matthew shouted. Sam turned around, surprised to hear him speak.

"Everything that's happened is too calculated to be coincidental. I thought this would be over for me as soon as the portal closed but its clear there's far more to this than we initially believed. We all have our parts. Until then, its unfinished business."

Sam stood still, unable to argue, but grumbled, still not convinced.

"Sam, I read a theory, and it makes perfect sense. We're entangled, our lives at first twisted together by seemingly random events, but now what happens to one profoundly affects the other. We can't escape what's coming. Every event in our lives, whether large or small, has led us to this point, and it'll eventually lead us somewhere else, together or apart."

Sam accepted that Matthew was correct, but his raw emotions took away his ability for logic. He just needed his brother back. "Dean needs me."

"Sam, entanglement has a double meaning. It doesn't just mean being intertwined. It also means we're hampered, not able to act at will. We have to wait this out. As soon as it's over, we'll know what to do next."

Sam's lost gaze moved over to Bobby and Domino. "So you think something's coming soon?"

Bobby nodded. "I'd bet my life on it."

Sam sighed in acceptance. "I can't let the demons get to me then." He took a few steps toward the exit.

"Sam," Bobby said, "Dean's only been gone over three months. Don't do anything stupid."

Sam nodded and put his hand on the doorknob. Matthew ran up to him. "So that's it, you're just gonna leave?"

"Preparing you for what's out there isn't my job Matthew. I've got too many battles you don't need to see. Learn from Bobby, trust your instincts, and if you're right about this destiny thing, our paths will cross again."

"You at least gonna tell us where Dean's body is?"

"Somewhere safe." He opened the door and closed it behind him.

"You're just gonna let him leave?" Matthew asked Bobby.

"If I've learned anything in my life, it's never get stubborn with a Winchester. That and from time to time, we need to let go."

Bobby and Domino stepped away, leaving Matthew to continue his gaze at the door, watching Sam walk past the windows before disappearing out of view. Somehow, he knew Sam would make it out of this alive, but not unscathed. Sam was hurt long ago, and despite all their efforts, his lingering wounds would never heal. Even with a strong purpose long in place, it was still a tragic story. There was nothing else he could do but let him go. "Good luck Sam."

"Hey, wait for me!" Matthew shouted, running to catch up to Bobby and Domino. He had work to do, for his purpose had just begun.

--

**a/n: Call it a cop out if you wish, but I decided to leave the saving Dean part to Kripke. As you can tell, the time frame is a couple weeks before the premiere. :)**

**This was a blast to write, even though I had absolutely no time for it, I'm thrilled I finally got to do it. I've been hanging onto this premise for so long! I'm rather pleased this time with the outcome, more so than my last attempt at a Supernatural fic. Anyway, even a simple comment of "loved it", "hated it", or "it's okay" will be embraced with much appreciation. **

**Thanks everyone for all your comments and taking the time to follow this complex story!**


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